Rise of the Shadow
by RaiderWolf
Summary: VTMB Lasombra playthrough. Eliza Flores had her life ripped away by the Sabbat. Caught in a Camarilla raid, she and her sire are put on trial. Barely surviving with the help of the Anarchs, Eliza must now learn to live in the Final Nights, as it is a cruel and unforgiving place. The easy part was dying. Now she must learn to survive.
1. Chapter 1 - Embrace

Chapter 1 – Embrace

September 11, 2004 = Saturday

For me, life was nothing but a toilet that someone forgot to flush. I had just come from midnight mass at the Saint Martin of Tours, and was headed home, thoughts on the events of the past month. First my mother had mysteriously died in her sleep. Everyone suspected my father of murder. That suspicion was short lived when he was found not a day after mom's funeral, again dead of mysterious circumstances.

For almost a week, four days really, I had found solace at my sister's home in Irvine, my grief nearly crushing me when I received a call from the Irvine police department asking me to come to the station. For me, it was a blur. I had to identify a body, and was barely able to discern sissy's features, but it was unmistakable. Then I had to sit and listen to the police chief describe her final moments, mainly that she was sexually assaulted by multiple men, then had her eyes and tongue ripped out before being beat to death by fists.

At that point I had thrown up in the nearest trash bin. I had left the office, and before the second week was out, had buried the last of my remaining family. My friend Samantha had taken me in after that, saying I didn't need to be left alone. I liked Samantha, the lawyer-to-be was there for me when I felt I had no one else. If life had left it there, I might have decided my family's death was just God wanting to test me.

With the new semester coming up, though, I soon became immersed in preparing. However, even that was soon robbed from me. The admissions office had denied me, stating that my GPA was falsified and I would have to straighten that out with California State Polytechnic by providing a certified copy of my transcript. The drive to San Louis Obispo was short, not that far from me, only to be told that my records had been destroyed and would take months to rebuild. Feeling defeated, I had tried to throw myself into my work at the Bel Air Country Club, only to be called to the manager's office a day later and had it revealed that a customer had complained that I was snarky and argumentative, and had spilled coffee over their shoes. When I tried to explain that I had never done that, the manager refused to hear me and I was fired on the spot.

One month. Not three weeks total, and I had went from aspiring model with friends and family, ready to start on my medical degree, to being practically homeless, unemployed, living off the good will of my last true friend, and now as I approached my little red Mazda, my one last stronghold, to find it was stripped to the frame and sitting on blocks.

"Just fucking great," I said, looking around for a phone booth, not finding one, started walking toward the Chevron just down the street. Might as well, I thought, it's on the way home.

"Hey sweetie, are you needing a ride?"

I turned to see the well dressed man in the Mercedes that had pulled up beside me, then went over to lean in his window.

"Actually, I do. Care to give me a lift?"

"Hop in," he said, his honeyed voice somehow sending every red flag I had up. Still, I needed the ride back to Samantha's apartment, and this would be the fastest way of getting there. Sliding into the front seat, which was real leather, and we headed down Sunset Boulevard to UCLA. When we got to the interstate, I was surprised when he suddenly turned right and headed towards Santa Monica.

"Hey, this is the wrong way!"

The man did nothing but laugh. I tried to open the door, but the door handle didn't work. I tried to roll down the window, his Mercedes having electric windows, but even that didn't work. I began to try and break the glass window, but a hand of iron gripped my wrist, forcing me down in the seat.

"You try that again, and I will break your arm," he said, his voice scaring me into quieting down. I was scared, certain that I had just been kidnapped. Stories I had heard about girls being sold as prostitutes began playing through my brain, and I hoped that he just wanted to rape me, then kill me. I so didn't want to live the rest of my life as a prostitute hopped up on drugs. I looked for a weapon, not finding one since I'd decided to wear pumps as they were more comfortable than my heels. The heels I could have used on him and the window, and maybe have gotten away. But I was forced to sit and wait, as we drove down the freeway.

We finally arrived at a fenced in warehouse, in some industrial area near Long Beach. At first I was hopeful that the guards I saw might call for help when they saw me, but that was short lived as my kidnapper stopped the car. One guard opened my door and I tried to bolt for the closing gate, but he grabbed me. I used a technique taught by my sensei in martial arts class to get free, leaving the guard clutching his instep as I again bolted for the gate. This time three guards penned me against the fence, then dragged me back kicking and screaming to my kidnapper.

"Still got a little fire, I see," he said, his hand lifting my head to meet him in the eye. Looking past me, he told the guards, "Take her inside, and tie her down on the bed. You can do anything you want to her, but leave her skin unblemished. If anyone breaks her skin, I will flay them alive."

A chorus of "Yes, sir" sealed my fate as I was dragged into the warehouse, down a flight of steps into a room with a grimy little bed with blood stains where the head would go. Though I tried my hardest to get free, I might as well have tried to jump the moon. As soon as they had me in that room, a knife was produced and my clothes were cut from my body. Then they tied my arms with metal cuffs to the header of the bed, while the first guy stripped his clothes.

"Sure looks like her sister," one of the guys commented.

"Na, she's got more fire than her sister did. She'd already given up by the time we tied her up."

Tears spilled from my eyes as their words sank in. My sister was raped by these men, and it was her blood that my head now rested on. I was jerked to reality as the first one climbed on top of me, forcing my legs open, as his buddies cheered him on. I howled and screamed and kicked as I tried to keep him off of me, but rope was produced and they tied my stomach to the bed then yanked my ankles back to the legs of the header. It left me open to his attacl. I screamed at the assault, and a rubber ball was taped into my mouth.

After several minutes of his attentions, he got off of me. The jerk was then replaced by another guy, larger and more brutish.

"She likes that," one of the men said as he continued to assault me. I could feel the tears run from my eyes, and soon thereafter I felt another guy crawl on to me. My mind soon lost track of the men assaulting me, even lost track of time in the windowless room. I was pawed at, assaulted, molested, raped, sodomized and tortured. I had more men crawl on me than I could ever hope to track. The assault never let up though, though I didn't know where all the men came from. Long after the assault began, I grew tired, and though I tried to sleep through the assault, they'd just torture my sensitive parts until I came screaming back to consciousness.

Somewhere along the way I passed the point where the torture could keep me awake, and I began to experience the nightmares, only to come to and find the nightmare hadn't ended, just the face had changed. Though I lost track of time, I experienced several more times the overwhelming need to sleep, sleep so needed that not even torture could keep me awake.

Finally, I opened my eyes to see nothing over me. Thinking I was alone, I lifted my head. No one was around me. I tried to move my arms, but found they were still tied to the bed, though there was enough slack I could turn my head to see the knots they used. Using my fingers, I started to work on loosening the knot, and to my surprise the velvet ropes slid easily apart. As my first wrist became free, I turned to the other wrist, and was able to quickly free it. I dropped the gag back onto the bed after pulling it off, then rubbed at my sore lips.

I was forced to slowly get up, the assault the men had committed between my legs making me too sore to move much, but desperation soon had me moving to the door, then up the stairs. Not seeing anyone around, I started to look for a phone, but didn't find one before a man's voice started speaking not far from me.

"The master is going to kill her tonight," the voice said, causing me to stop moving and crouch down. "He said we aren't supposed to touch her anymore."

"Aw, man," the other voice started. "I liked hearing her howl, too."

"Maybe the master will bring us another girl."

"Doubt it, they don't let us have fun that often."

Fear had me run the other way, and before I could think, burst through the emergency exit into a group of guards, knocking one down from the surprise. They began laughing and jeering at me, then one man looked at the setting sun, and started saying, "Better run, little whore. The master will be out at sunset to get ya."

As I scrambled to my feet, I managed to grab the shotgun off the guard I had knocked over, causing the others to back up and lift their own as I ran for the fence, first trying to scale it, then when my foot slipped on the wire, decided I should crawl under it when I saw the slight gap as I lay on the pavement. I was almost to the second fence, when I heard the guards start to chant, "Sim-E-on, Sim-e-on."

Going to my knees, I bent down to get under the last fence, making sure to keep a hand on the shotgun when I looked back to the setting sun, not knowing why it was so important. The day was starting to get dark as I got to my knees on the far side, and looked back at the guards when I saw him exit the warehouse. My kidnapper, Simeon apparently, had just come out the door and was headed straight for me. I ran down the nearest alley, when I heard the rattle of the fence. Knowing he was right behind me, I put all the little stamina I had left in the sprint for freedom. Soon though, I was trapped in a dead end, and turning, I saw Simeon round the corner, grinning at me.

Knowing I was trapped, I tried to remember what I could about using a shotgun. I tried to pull the barrel grip back, as I'd seen them do in many movies to load the gun, but it wouldn't move. Since Simeon was now so close, I jerked the weapon towards him to scare him but it discharged, knocking me back into the wall, and momentarily knocking me senseless, and just barely managed to keep my feet under me. When I looked forward again, Simeon was picking himself off the ground, a bloody gash across his shoulder from the gun, and I pulled the grip again, this time to the satisfaction of the racheting mechanism as the spent casing was ejected. Simeon started to laugh as he noticed the wound, and I fired again, but missed due to the greater distance. Simeon lounged for me and I started reloading and firing the gun as fast as I could, but either I missed or Simeon dodged and soon he was on top of me. I swung the weapon by the wooden end, to use it as a club, but Simeon just caught it and ripped it away from me.

I then used used the palm of my hand to strike him in the face but I barely started to swing my hand and he had my wrists in his iron grip as he spread and lifted my arms in a mock of the crucifix. With my feet off the ground, I tried to kick but he pressed against me and bared his teeth, turning his head to bite my neck. I felt his teeth sink into my flesh, and was surprised at the ecstasy I felt, making me squirm even though I could feel my blood run down my neck and over my chest. Eventually, I began to grow weak, and though I still felt the chewing of his teeth, I no longer felt any energy at all, just a loud beating that began to fill my ears.

Finally, he let go of my arms and I collapsed onto the pavement. I tried to move, but wasn't even able to lift an arm. I realized then that beating sound was my heart as it beat wildly, trying to keep me alive, but the only realization I had was that he drank my blood. Laying on the ground at his feet, I could hear my heart slow, the roar lessening, when he hooked his shoe under my shoulder, flipping me onto my back.

Forced to look at him, as even moving my eyes was getting hard, he bent down next to me. Laughing, he put his wrist into his mouth, bit down and then moved his wrist over my mouth. He had to force my mouth open a little as I lie there, feeling his blood pour into the back of my mouth. He used his free hand to massage my throat, and I was surprised when I actually swallowed. The darkness began to close in though, and soon I lost all sensation as I fell into oblivion.

-o-0-o-

September 16, 2004

I awoke with a start, with a burning sensation at the back of my throat and extreme feeling of hunger. I could still see Simeon standing over me. I scurried back, glad my muscles worked again. Simeon just laughed, and thinking he was distracted, tried to dart past him. I didn't have any luck though. He reached out a hand and caught me by the throat and lifted me off the pavement.

"Let's take care of that hunger shall we?" he said, and carried me back to the warehouse and through the gate. He finally set me down once we were inside, and I could see the guard I had knocked down was hanging by his bound wrists from a metal hook.

"So this is the one you stole the weapon from? He shall make a fine first meal for you," he crooned at me, making me shudder. I was expected to be a cannibal now?

He released me, but a quick look around and I lost any hope of trying to escape. Guards stood at every exit, shotguns in hand. Using my hands to cover myself, I watched as Simeon took a knife and carved a shallow cut across the mans neck. It was as if the red line became a beacon. Every sense I had was suddenly locked on to that shallow cut. My eyes wouldn't turn away. I swear I could taste it. The smell of iron filled my nose. And the beating. That awful thumping sound I'd heard when Simeon had bitten my neck. Except from twenty feet away.

Drawn to it, I began to walk forward. That line of red became all I could see. No other sound could be heard except that racing heart. Soon, I was standing in front of him. His head was forced to the side, exposing the wound. My mouth opened, I was so hungry. I wanted to feed. My mouth fastened onto his skin, and I bit down. Something warm flowed into my mouth. More, my body screamed at me. Wrapping my arms around him, I kept sucking on the warmth that flowed from his neck. His racing heart was like the beating of a drum throughout my body. Soon, the taste soured in my mouth and became so repugnant that I released him. Though my eyes clearly saw the bite marks in his neck, no blood came out. His head was hanging forward, but the beating of his heart was slowing, receding.

"Bloods never as sweet as the first kill," Simeon said.

"K-kill?" Oh my god! I killed him!

"Yeah, sucked him dry. Feeling it now aren't you? The power?"

I looked at my hands. I killed someone? Looking at the man hanging in front of me, I actually felt powerless, naked and afraid. What was I becoming?

"Take her to her room. Let her get cleaned up from the filfth you vermin left in her."

"Yes, master," he said, then waving me to follow him, and headed up the stairs. Following him to the second story, he led me into the office area. Approaching a set of fancy doors with frosted glass set in them, he opened it and held it for me. Once we were inside, he went over to another door and opened it, revealing a fancy bathroom.

"The master wants you to clean yourself up, mistress. These are your rooms now."

"Mistress?" I kill someone and now I'm mistress? What kind of creeps were they?

"Yes, you are the mistress now. I am just a lowly servant," he said, kneeling in front of me.

Walking past the kneeling guard, I entered the bathroom. Extravagant didn't cover this room. Opulent maybe. It just didn't have any mirrors. Suddenly feeling every jerk inside and out, I crawled into the tub and turned the hot water on. Taking a loofah, I put a generous amount of soap on it and started to scrub at the grime. Soon, my skin became red from a combination of hot water and scrubbing, but I was starting to feel normal again.

Normal. How could I ever be normal after killing a man. Why did I bite his neck? Memories of the event came back to me, and then it hit me. Blood. There wasn't any blood. Rinsing my hand, I put it inside my mouth. Fingers rubbed against my front teeth, then moving down the knife-like ridge until I found the oddity. A mountain in the hills. A fang. My fingers ran to the other side, and there I found another one. I had fangs!

Whimpering, I sank into the tub, no longer caring to keep my hair dry as the hot water poured over me. I had fangs! Whipping my head around I found the one reflective surface in the entire bathroom in the sink fixture. Scrambling over to the sink, I looked into the shiny faucet. I could see the bathroom reflected, the lights, the walls. But not me. Even though the overhead light should have been blocked by my face. It shown right through me.

It's true then. I am a vampire! I was an undead predator of the night. I so wanted to hurl.

Crawling back into the shower, I continued to scrub my body clean. Knowing I was dead somehow made it easier. Somehow my brain still functioned and kept coming up with awkward questions. Would I still sweat? Did I need to breathe? Is the inability to cross running water really a thing?

After cleaning every last inch of my body, several times over, I finally stopped the water. Taking a towel, I dried myself off, then wrapped myself in the big towel. Taking a smaller towel, I used it to dry my hair, then wrapped it so it would dry out properly. Stepping out into the bedroom, the guard who had led me up was still standing by the door. Looking around, there was a fancy bag on the bed. I opened it up, to find a pearl gray bustier. Reaching back into the bag, I pulled out the matching bikini bottom.

I couldn't help but feel the guard eying me, and as there was no where else to change, decided I might as well push my luck.

"Turn around."

The guard quickly turned around and faced the door, and not taking the chance in case the perv wanted to see me naked again, started getting dressed while facing him. I dropped the towels, and slipped the bikini bottom on and then put the bustier around my tits. Reaching into the bag I pulled out the slacks that were inside. The slate gray wasn't going to do anything for me but they were stylish in their own way. Once I had them on, I pulled out a slate colored cotton top and slipped it on. Looking back in the bag, I found a pair of socks and black leather shoes that looked like they'd fit without problem. Least they can get my sizes right, must of took them off my clothes when they shredded them.

Finally dressed, I looked around for the mirror. God, even if I had one I couldn't see myself. I'm such a doofus. Is being a vampire good for anything? I can't see myself so I'm going to end up a fashion disaster. I gotta kill to eat, literally, so I'm going to be a monster. An immortal bloodsucking fashion disaster.

Stake me now.

At that moment the door to the room burst open and a woman walked in carrying a knife. The guard tried to shoot her, but the blonde woman was faster and buried the knife into his chest. I was scared, and backed up against the wall. The woman let the guard fall, wiping the knife clean on his shirt. Then she looked at me. If my heart was still beating, it would have roared I was so scared.

Holstering her knife, she pulled a stake from her back. I knew what stakes were used for; I'd seen enough Buffy enough to know. She was going to put me down. She was a hunter, I was the prey. It was to me a moment of clarity. I had only killed once. It was unforgivable. But I didn't have it in me to be the monster. To fight her.

Lifting my shirt, I revealed my heart. I wanted it to be clean. To be over. I flat refused to be the monster.

The woman watched me, then with one deliberate motion threw the stake. I felt it thunk into my chest, and then I collapsed into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2 - Trial

Chapter 2 – Trial

September 24, 2004 = Friday

I was kneeling on a stage when the world was brought back. I tried to bring my hands around to rub my sore chest, but they were tied behind me. I looked around, and found Simeon kneeling ten feet away, his hands tied behind him. Serves the murderer right, even if I was still alive.

In a way, at least. Why was I alive? I thought hunter bitch had staked me.

Casting my eyes around, I found the theater packed with people. Many of the people on my left were rough types, like gang bangers. To the right were more upscale types in suits. The pale faces, though, told me everyone here was likely a vampire. My eyes silently counted the people already seated, and the few stragglers coming in. Over two hundred.

Why was I on stage? What were they going to do? Torture me for fun? Bleed me for pleasure? A man walked to the front of the stage, while a big guy stood watch over Simeon, a big, heavy blade in his hands. More men were flanking around the stage, all carrying swords of varying types. All looked serious.

"Good evening, my fellow kindred. Tonight we have struck a major victory for Los Angeles. The Sabbat leader, Simeon Bellomo, was captured along with his freshly sired childe. Many of the Sabbat's packs were destroyed, the rest scattering to the wind. We have won."

Simeon must have found that funny, because he was laughing hysterically. "You haven't won a thing. Andrei will rally the packs. We will take Los Angeles from you mewling wimps and teach the kine their rightful place beneath our heel."

The gallery erupted in noise, loud enough to make me flinch. Many of the people it seemed were angry, shouting complaints and insults at the fancy suited man who had been speaking before. He turned to face Simeon, and I swear I saw the devil smile.

"Simeon, you stand accused of breaking Masquerade by revealing to non bound humans the existence of Kindred. You stand accused of breaking the rules of Domain by hunting within the limits of Los Angeles without permission of its Prince. You have broken the rules of Progeny by not getting permission of the Prince to Sire a childe. You have violated the rules of Hospitality, by not presenting yourself to the Prince. You have broken almost all the Traditions that guard our society. As Prince of Los Angeles, I hereby sentence you to death. Let the penalty commence."

I watched the big man raise his sword. Simeon was forced over, too well bound to fight back. He looked at me, the fear in his eyes evident as he silently pleaded for help. I knew what they were going to do, and I was thrilled for it.

"Die you son of a bitch!" I spat at him, smiling even as I knew I was probably going to meet the same fate. With no way to get free, the executioner brought the sword down to cleave its way through Simeon's neck. The moment his head started to fall, it turned to ash. His entire body became ash and made a small pile where he was kneeling. He was dead, and I was happy. Murderer and rapist anyway.

The man in the million dollar suit faced me, and while he was smiling, it wasn't friendly.

"That leaves the ill-begotten progeny. The Tradition of Accounting states that childer are the responsibility of their Sires until they are released. However, this childe was not sired with permission. Tell me young one, are you even aware of what you are?"

"I'm a vampire," I said, trying to be brave for the theater full of vampires.

"Do you know how to feed, to sustain yourself? Do you know the Traditions we follow?"

"I have fed, yes. I can survive, given the chance," Ok, lie, lie, lie! "The Traditions? You got me. But as Simeon just like broke every one of them and laughed about it, I don't think I was given much chance to learn them."

"She's just a childe!" I heard a soft feminine voice shot from the audience. I looked back out on the crowd, seeing hunter bitch was standing for me. I smiled at her, letting her know I appreciated her speaking on my behalf. Maybe she wasn't so bad.

"Which is why she must be destroyed!" Lacroix roared back. "She is too great a risk to the Masquerade! She doesn't know the Traditions!"

"Were you Embraced knowing the Traditions? Were any of us? We Gangrel don't even get the chance to meet our Sire for weeks after our Embrace," Hunter Bitch shouted back. "Hell, I didn't even learn to feed until a Toreador showed me how! My sire never cared if I lived or died!"

"But you are still the responsibility of your Sire. If you had broken the Masquerade in that time, he would have been called on it."

"I say she was until you killed him," she threw back. "She hasn't broken any rules. She even allowed me to stake her without a fight. I say give her a chance!"

"Yea, Cammie! She's not on Trial here. Simeon was. Unless you have proof she broke one of your precious rules!"

That last speaker was one of the gang bangers. Dressed in an open blue shirt with some kind of white tank underneath, he looked every bit the scrapper. I turned my eyes to look at million dollar suit again, almost seeing the anger pour off him.

"Mr. Rodriguez, this fledgling is capable of destroying the fabric of our existence. All it takes is one slip. This is the age of cell phone video cameras. Small slip-ups cannot be tolerated."

"Still goes that she hasn't done anything wrong." The man looked ready to get scrappy, and so did a lot of the people around him.

The tension in the theater was almost palpable. The scrapper and million dollar suit looked ready to have it out. Finally he caved.

"Fine. But she will be held accountable same as any other Kindred, and she will also owe me a boon, as I am sparing her life," Turning to me, he looked me right in the eye. I could see the rage there, and knowing that power loving richy boys hated to be showed up, decided that the best course was to take the deal and get out of his hair.

"Alright. I'll owe you a boon. Just, uh, what's a boon?"

That caused the entire theater to erupt into laughter. Apparently I was going to become the butt of a joke.

"That means, fledgling, you owe me a favor. As the one to whom the favor is owed. I get to decide how it is to be redeemed. While I figure out the best way to use this boon, I will grant you temporary status as a kindred of this city. There are going to be, restrictions, placed on you. You will be brought to Santa Monica. There, one of my agents will watch over you while you pay your boon. Until it is paid, you are not allowed to leave. Understood?"

"Yes. Go to Santa Monica. Pay a favor. Until then, I'm under parole." At least I wasn't going to die, but what about becoming the monster? That's why I let myself get staked.

"Very astute," million dollar suit said, "Remember fledgling, we are a secret society. It is a secret we kill to protect."

"I've already killed. Not proud of it, I just don't want to become a monster."

Turning away from me, he addressed the gathered people. "That concludes tonight's proceedings. Thank you for attending." With that, everyone seemed to file out in minutes, while someone behind me released my arms. First thing I did was rub the still aching spot on my chest, secretly glad I had lifted my shirt to get staked. But I all I get is knocked out? Interesting to know. Maybe the movies don't have it right.

Soon, it was just me on the stage, everyone having headed for the exit. Santa Monica? And who was this agent I was supposed to meet? Heading the way everyone else did I found myself walking down a hall. Million dollar suit was talking with another guy, also in a suit but way less expensive, but upon noticing me, gave one last glare and then left. New suit guy waited by the door.

"Miss Flores, I am Scourge Victor Walsh. If I may have a moment?"

Well, they know my name at least. "Can I help you?"

That seemed to make the guy chuckle, as he reached behind him and opened the door as a long black Cadillac pulled up and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. A chauffeur hurried back and opened the rear door, waiting on him.

"I figured I might help you by offering a lift to your new home," he said. Warning flags went up from his tone. It was obvious he didn't want to help me, even though his words offered the very thing I needed. Deciding that the lift might be worth more than any problems that would arise, I accepted, and entered the limo.

"So, I will assume you have many questions about your new life. I am aware that Simeon has only just turned you this evening."

Many different things whirled through my brain. Did I have to kill to feed? Why was Simeon so mean to me, when apparently not all vampires accepted that behavior? Who was the guy in charge and what kind of Mickey Mouse Club from hell was I being forced into? Hanging my head, I decided to start with the one that weighed on me most.

"Do I have to kill to feed?" I could only look out the window, afraid his answer was yes. I'd seen a lot of vampire flicks over the years, and in almost all of them, vampires killed their victims by draining them of blood.

"No." What? I heard him right didn't I?

"We… we don't?" Why did I sound like a beaten puppy?

"Miss Flores, when you were alive, did you finish your meal? Or did you leave some on your plate? You will find it a fitting analogy later, after you've adjusted more." Ok, he had my attention. "With experience, you will find that you can drink deep from a mortal, and depending upon your own hunger, that it is all you need. You will not wake each evening with the feeling of being famished, but as you may have had in life. That soon you will need to feed, and can function well for hours without slaking your hunger."

"Great, um, thanks," I said, glad that I might not have to kill again. Ever. What is with people and vampires anyway? Is it just because, deep inside, so many people just like to see death and gore? "So, um, what kind of organization did I join anyway?"

"We are the Camarilla, a group founded by seven clans in Medieval times. Inquisitors were finding and killing us. We were nearly wiped out of existence. A conclave was called, and the idea was made that we would take our society deep underground. This idea paved the way for the Camarilla to be born. While many Kindred believed in the idea, two clans vehemently opposed it. Those two clans would form the Sabbat."

"Clans?"

He sighed, "There are thirteen clans, but only nine are currently in Los Angeles. The Brujah, Gangrel, Giovanni, Malkavian, Nosferatu, Toreador, Tremere, Ventrue and your clan, Lasombra." Holding up a hand to hold back my question, he continued. "The Lasombra are not well known to me. I do know that they have no reflection and are the only clan to have this weakness. You will also develop an affinity for shadows, being able to mold and shape them into actual objects. Your clan also has the powers of Potence and Presence. Potence allows you to increase your strength greatly, while Presence allows you to project emotions into others."

"What about the others?"

The man shook his head. "There's too much information for you to digest in such a short time. I will personally see that any information you need to complete your task is given you. Such is my job."

I looked out the window as we left the freeway. We were in some shady area of LA, definitely not the type of place I wanted to live as the buildings were so rundown. After several moments, the limo stopped in front of a pawn shop. Walsh exited the limo and I followed behind him. He led me down a dark alley through a door and up the stairs. At the door to apartment 8, he used a key to open it and let me inside. The place was just as bad as the rest of the town honestly. On the right just past the door were the remains of a kitchenette. I say remains because the doors on the cabinets were literally falling off. I didn't open the door on the fridge, but it looked ancient enough to have belonged to my grandmother. Past the kitchenette was a door, the only door in the apartment. It opened up into a grime filled bathroom. Just outside to the door against the windows was a turn knob TV with rabbit ears. An empty desk sat past that in the corner, and by the door to the hallway where Walsh stood was a twin size bed.

"Peachy." I was so leaving this dump when I could. Maybe move back in with Samantha. What's it like to live with a walking, talking Happy Meal?

"This place is used by ghouls sent here on their masters business. It is the only asset we have in Santa Monica. For the next month you have sole use of this," he looked around again, taking in the grimy walls and falling apart furniture, "haven. After that you will have to secure your own." He started to turn around, then paused when he got a text message. "You will also have to cut ties to your old life. People think you are dead, and have been for a week. The coroner has even closed your file. "

"But, Samantha!" I knew the auburn haired woman wouldn't stop until she found me.

"Samantha Timms held a vigil in your memory on Tuesday. Remember, the Masquerade must be maintained. She has to believe you are dead. If you ever see her again, even by accident, she must not believe you are still alive."

"So, if I see her, I have to kill her." These rules were so stupid! I was alive! All I needed was to just play it easy, make a comeback, and no one would know. Right?

"Yes. Dawn comes in thirty minutes. Might want to make yourself comfortable." With that he turned and left the apartment, leaving me alone in my misery. My friends think I'm dead. My family was dead. What more could happen to me? Being Kindred sucked.

Deciding that since I couldn't seem to cry anyway, I'd best prepare for daylight in the next little bit anyway. Glancing around, there didn't seem to be any place where I could survive daytime. Am I going to be awake all day? Or do I sleep?

The best way to find out would be to get comfortable in the bathroom so I stepped into the tiny room. Just too small really. A shower on the right, a sink and commode on the left. Not more than five feet long. Not much to get comfortable in. I think the trunk on my Mazda was roomier. Knowing that I might pass out at any moment as the sun rose, I stripped my clothes off, hanging them over the shower rod. Sitting on the commode, I didn't have long to wait before the first wave of sleep hit, like drinking warm milk. Knowing staying awake during the day was a losing battle, I closed my eyes, and went to sleep leaned against the wall.


	3. Chapter 3 - Meeting the Ghouls

Chapter 3 – Meeting the Ghouls

September 25, 2004 = Saturday

I awoke, still leaned against the wall. I stood up and stretched, eying the new towel hanging in front of me. I opened the bathroom door to see sunlight pouring in on the desk. Oh-K! and slammed the door to prevent a serious case of sunburn. Wow, I was up before sunset, or was it sunset? Deciding I didn't want to risk it, and not having much else to do, I showered. After drying off with the fresh towel, decided to use the new toothbrush and generic toothpaste to brush the fangs. I then got back into my clothes.

This time I opened the door to find the room halfway dark. Creeping out, I took notice of the changes in the room. A computer had been setup on the desk and was on. On the bed was a sheet set in cheap plastic along with a small pillow. Deciding someone had a case of hysterics, I left them and went to the computer. Tapping a computer key, it switched to a login screen for the Lacroix Foundation.

It asked for a password, and I had a momentary feeling of shock. A look on the desk revealed a cheap notepad. The top page had a note signed by a Mercurio. He told me the password was "sunrise", then joked I'd never see one again. I suddenly felt a bolt of anger about joking at my expense. I didn't ask for this life. I entered the password into the computer and that brought me to a list of all emails received into the account. It was pretty basic really, more like Macintosh from the early 90's as opposed to recent Yahoo.

I started cycling through them, most of them being spam. One was from "Mysterious Friend," and I wrote it off as spam too as the sender was talking about opening moves in chess. The last was from Mercurio. He left me directions to his apartment, which was only a few blocks away. Also, he told me he left a hundred bucks in the drawer to the desk along with keys to his apartment. Thank god, a man that leaves money.

Taking the money, I left the apartment, locking the door on my way out. Out in the alley, I met a bum, though the rank smell was a definite turn off.

"Got some change lady?" he asked, edging close enough to make me nauseous.

"I'm hungry," I told him, then grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him hard against the wall. With his head lolled to one side I bared my fangs and bit him, drinking his precious blood and slaking my thirst. When I let the bum go, he fell against the wall, groaning. He was still breathing, and the bite holes disappeared as my teeth left.

No longer having to worry about my thirst, I followed the directions Mercurio gave me, walking by a clinic on my way. Soon, I found a nicer building that seemed to be the one I needed. Stepping around the fresh blood pool on the stairs I went through the double doors, using my key to get in. The blood trail turned out to be a trail right to the needed door, and I worried something had happened I was going to get blamed for.

I opened the door to find a guy laying on the couch, covered in blood. He was trying to bandage some of his more serious wounds with a first aid kit, and failing miserably. I knelt by the couch, and took over without a word.

"Those mothers...ripped me off," he panted, the pain he was in obvious. He should be in an emergency room, really. I reached for the phone to call one, but he grabbed my arm.

"Whatcha doin?" he asked. He had a grip like iron, which was surprising considering the blood loss.

"Calling for an ambulance," I told him, wondering if I could overpower him.

"What? No, I gotta record back East. I'm heat bait."

"You sure?" I said, looking him over again. He was pretty bad, but maybe as some kind of supernatural he was resilient to this.

"No cops!"

"Fine, Mercurio I take it?"

"Yea, your the new kid everyone is so riled over. Looking for the Astrolite? I got shanked by those bastards! Blood ain't working no more."

"Blood?"

"Once a month I get fed vampire blood. Heals me, keeps me young. Wouldn't know it by looking but I'm over seventy."

"Can't I just give you mine?"

"No. Has to be the master's. I'm a ghoul, newbie. Any order I'm given I'm compelled to obey, even up to one that will cost me my life. That third sip of his blood sealed my fate."

He looked down from where he'd propped himself up. "What is this lump? Is it my rib? My ribs poking out my side?! I'm all numb…you gotta look and tell me!"

I looked under his coat, finding a small bottle top lodged into his side. I pulled it out with very little blood coming out and showed it to him. He relaxed back into the couch and I threw the broken bottle shank away.

"Goddamn chemist. Can't trust any operators in LA. I verified him, organization seemed reliable. Guy mixes stuff, his crew sells it. Sometimes he does explosives. So I set up a drop. I show up with the money, right? Four of these guys, they jump me out of nowhere. Junkie pricks. Head feels like a horse kickin' it. Amateur move. Never should have gone alone. Now they got the money, they got the Astrolite."

"Where can I find them?" I didn't know what I was going to do when I caught up to them, but I was an undead creature. What harm could they do to me?

"Small time sons of bitches live out in a dump on the beach. Four of five, I think. The one's got the explosives is Dennis. Got my money, too. You gotta get it back from them. Maybe reason with 'em, maybe break in. God I wanna kill 'em. Do whatever you people do. I blew it."

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" I asked, his wounds had stopped bleeding, but he wasn't healing.

"If you could get something for the pain," he said, still breathing heavily, then seemed to pass out.

I left him on the couch. It was better for him if he didn't move, anyway. I left his apartment and headed for the beach, rather easy to find since all I had to do was head west, when a thought entered my brain. Any chemist worth his salt was always looking for the next best drug, and I had one in my veins. But how do you make a chemist suck on a bare wrist?

I turned and headed back to the clinic. If I could get access to the right equipment, most of which was readily available in the right cabinet in public access, I could offer my blood as a simple drink. All he had to do was drink it, and maybe somewhere along the way I could find some pain meds.

As I got back to the clinic, a man got in my path.

"You, you're a vampire aren't you?" he asked excitedly.

I was torn between running for the hills and listening to the voice I could hear saying "kill him!" I decided to stay calm and reasonable.

"Vampire? What are you smoking?" Just stay calm, and let the nutcase go away, I thought.

"C'mon, you are too! Don't bullshit me, girl! Just come clean. I just wanna talk!"

What is this? This guy was too clean cut to be one of those Gothic vampire wannabe types. I got to thinking that maybe I should see what he knew before I offed him on basic principles. I was on thin enough ice without heating the water.

"So talk." I needed a gun so I could make the next guy sidewalk meat.

"Hell yeah! Oh man, I knew it! I could just tell. And then I saw your teeth an-and I was like, damn! The name's Knox Harrington. Pleasure to meet you."

"You too. Are you vampire? How do you know all this?"

"I'm a ghoul! I didn't know any of this until a few months ago. Then this nasty dude showed up and well, all of a sudden – bam! Whoa man! Vampires are real and in front of my eyes! Blew my goddamn mind."

Well, at least my neck wasn't on the line here as he was a ghoul, already. And he seemed to enjoy it. I glanced at the sky, knowing that the hours of the night wouldn't hold forever before I'd have to head for the apartment. "Knox, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have things to take care of before the sun rises."

"Oh, I understand," he said, never once frowning. "That's usually what I get asked to do; pick up blood packs, equipment, or pass on messages."

"So as a ghoul, your a kindred's servant?" I asked, making sure I heard him right.

"Yep, but its all good. He takes care of me, and apparently I won't age! I do get time for myself, so if you want me, look me up at the Asylum, its just a few blocks south of here."

"Thanks, Knox," I said, as I opened the door to go inside the clinic. He was an ok guy, but he really needed 'lady friends.'

Inside the clinic, I found a lobby full of the sick and injured. Making my way past the registration desk, I was stopped by a nurse asking me to wait. Knowing that they couldn't keep track of everyone, I just told her I was bringing a friend some personal items, and they let me go on back. The first room I tried had a young red haired woman in a yellow shirt who looked far worse than Mercurio did. She was hacking up blood, which was never a good sign, and had several blood bandages trying to hold her precious red stuff in.

Thankfully, I wasn't thirsty, but seeing so much was making me want to take a lick. I looked her over, and what little bit I knew of physiology said she wasn't going to make it. I hated to leave her like this, but did I want to take the risk of ghouling her?

Looking at her again, I decided I couldn't let her die without trying. Baring my fangs, I bit my wrist and drew blood. Holding my wrist over her open mouth, she seemed to follow it like a babe to its mothers breast and drank my blood. After several mouth-fulls, I pulled my wrist back, and she seemed to come around a bit.

"Who...who are you," she asked, as if she was really tired, which she probably was with all the blood-loss.

"Just a nurse," I replied, settling her back onto the examination bed. "Just rest, I must be going now."

The red haired woman passed out, but her color was better. Hopefully she'd survive, now I just had to find her again. Rummaging the cabinets, I managed to find a blood draw kit and several test tubes for blood. Taking it all, and hiding it in my bra, I walked out of the room, and headed deeper into the clinic.

Down a hallway, I managed to find a supply closet. Ducking inside I scanned the bottles, finding the usual bottles full of antivirals, antiseptics, and weak pain killers. Finally, in a rack that was supposed to be reserved for anti-fungal meds, was a single bottle of vicodin. Taking the bottle, and shoving it in a pocket, I left the clinic.

Heading back out to the beach, I found the parking garage filled with police cruisers, lights flashing erratically. Searching around, I found the beach access stairwell was still open, so I took it down. It led me through a long, dark tunnel that opened up on the sandy beach. I hadn't even gotten a good look around before a dark haired woman ran up to me.

"Up there. Through that chain link gate and up those stairs," she said, her accent carrying a deep hint of Spanish.

"Thanks," I replied, not caring she knew who I was after. I am a vampire after all, so what else is new in the night?

I went up the stairs, stopping on the last platform. After looking over the last stair, I could see a guy with a bat guarding the entrance to the house. The area looked too bright to sneak through. Ducking back out of sight, I took a blood draw kit and cracked it open. Taking the butterfly needle, I stuck the one end in my arm and into a vein. Attaching the hub, I then took a tube and inserted it into the hub, watching it fill with my blood. After the first, I filled the other four, tucking each full one into my bra.

Only after I was done did I take the butterfly needle out. I didn't have a sterilization pad, but, hey, I'm already dead. What more could happen to me? Poking my head over the top stairwell again, I decided it was time to pull my courage together and face these men down. Climbing the last stairs, I stepped forward just as the thug nearest me lit his cigarette. He turned to face me, and blew his smoke in my face.

Oh, yea. We're off to a great start.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Beach House

Chapter 4 – The Beach House

September 25, 2004 = Saturday

"Help ya?" the guy holding a baseball said. He actually looked yummy with no shirt on, and I decided to try a little something different. I might be stuck with him for awhile if this worked, after all.

"Do I look dangerous?" I said, sticking my chest out a little and rocking my hips from side to side. "I'm sure a big man like you can think of better things to do than beat up on a sweetie like me."

A big smile came over his face as he looked me over and I swear my heart actually beat again before I actually felt really nauseous at the thought. "I tell you what," he said, as he put an arm around my waist and felt of my butt. I just smiled at him, hoping my fangs weren't too visible in the dim light. "I'll let you in. And if on your way out, you want to work out a little fair trade for future purchases, you come see me. I'm Brian."

I leaned in close, and I swear I could smell a girl's perfume on him. I settled on giving him a little peck on the cheek. He let me go and I went inside the house. There was a guy just inside the door fiddling with a TV. I looked at the screen and it definitely needed tinfoil. I tried the door at the back of the room, but it was locked.

"Go around, fool!" came from the other side.

I started around, turning left at the back of the room and left again into the kitchen. I was beginning to wonder if my eyesight might be off somehow as their kitchen seemed to be just as shoddy as mine was. I found two more guys playing rummy at a kitchen table. One guy pointed a finger and mumbled a "that way" before going back to his game. I edged by them, going through some kind of weight lifting room before finding their computer room.

I continued on, ending in the room with a set of bunk beds. Some kind of utility room, I guess, as it contained the washer and dryer. What drew my eye was the large vent built into the wall. This house had central air conditioning? And why a vent that big? I could almost crawl through it. My dorm room had a vent, but it was the size of a shoe box.

I looked at it, and saw that the vent itself actually had hinges hidden on the top. Pulling the bottom, It lifted away easily, and I poked my head inside. Maybe they kept drugs in here? What little light I had showed me it was a small closet-type space. On the floor next to me was a shoe box. I opened the shoe box, to find it stuffed with cash. I did a quick count and come up with about five hundred. Much of it had to have been Mercurio's, with the rest being from selling drugs.

Pocketing the money, and hoping no one saw me, I crawled back out and closed the vent cover. Straightening my clothes, and dusting myself off, I went through the far door. Inside were two men, one looked like the other thugs with his gray hoodie, but the other was dressed in a nice white coat and red patterned shirt and what could only be fake gold chains hanging from his neck. He was trying for class and coming up short in this dump.

"Yea, that is what I love about this business. Fine women come to my house for my shit. I don't even have to call 'em on the phone. Say there, pretty lady, what can I hook you up with tonight?"

'Play it cool' ran through my mind, so I cocked my hip with a hand, and told him "Whatcha got?"

"My staff maintains at all times a twenty-four carat smorgasbord of A plus narcotics guaranteed to make the competition's shit seem like weak cappuccino in comparison. White, green, blues, reds, black – pick a color."

"I'm looking for something different. I need explosives."

His face twisted a bit, "Explosives. Fun stuff. Get yourself a lotta attention that way. Yea, I got something. Why would you need to get your hands on some fireworks?"

I had a brief moment of panic, but decided to try to keep playing it cool. He was agreeable, just keep playing it. "Money problems. Need to make a withdrawal on the insurance."

"Sure, okay. I got some stuff that'll do the trick. Astrolite. TNT's bigger, meaner cousin with a prison record. Don't like to keep it around, too dangerous. I'll let you have it less than the going rate."

I felt the cash in my back packet, and not knowing how soon I could get my hands on more, decided I should try and hang on to it. "Anything you take besides cash?" I bat my eyes at him and ran a hand suggestively down a hip. Yea, I'm bad.

"I'm open to suggestions," he said coming, eyes falling to where my hand was now rubbing at my panties, "Question is, how open are you?"

Glad he took the bait, I looked at the other guy who was enjoying this way too much. "How about sending your buddy out of the room and find out?"

Dennis didn't even look away from leering at me. "Yo, go check the odometer of my car." The thug in the room with us sneered at me before unlocking the door behind him and leaving us alone. I walked up to Dennis, and he ran a hand over my shoulder before reaching down to grab and fondle my ass. "Now, I'll give you what you want…but I got what you need."

"Indeed," I whispered, reaching under my shirt to get one of the vials of my blood. "Fair trade? How about a better pick-me-up than speed. Safer too."

"What is this? Blood?" he said, eyeing it.

"Just a special mix of mine, it'll make you stronger, tougher."

"Still looks like blood. Probably tainted with AIDS or something." This was going south fast.

"If your so scared, give it to me, I'll sample it for you." I said, holding out my hand.

"Yea, and your ass is probably already got it. Shit!" he said, his hand reaching behind him. "You can cough up five hundred bucks now, or I can take you fishing." His hand came back out with a gun, and it was pointed at me. I was really starting to wonder how far I could push my dead body. Did guns still hurt?

"How about you give it to me, and no one gets hurt." I said, trying to put an edge to my voice.

"Yo boys," He called out, and the other guy immediately came in leaving the door open, bat in hand. "Get the boat ready, we're going fishing." I only had eyes for that gun, wondering how I was going to salvage this when the first shot rang out and I felt the sting in my chest and the thump like I'd been hit with a sledgehammer. I stumbled back and he shot me five more times, each shot hitting me in the chest and knocked me back into the wall.

I somehow managed to stay on my feet, and looked down at my bloody chest. That was just pissing me off. I only had the one shirt, and it wasn't like I could go shopping for more. I looked up to see a startled Dennis reloading his pistol. With deliberate steps I walked forward and grabbed his gun hand just as he was bringing it back up to fire again. I started to bend his gun arm around to face him, and I could feel him use every muscle to fight me. I still managed to keep turning the gun to face him and as I started to line it up with his face, saw the stark fear there. Once I had it lined up, I pulled the trigger myself.

The gun barked once, the bullet ripping into left eye and painting the wall behind him with his brains. After that he went limp and I let him fall to the side. I looked around to see the other five guys lined up at the doorway. Each one had a shocked looked on their face. The guy closest to me, one I think was in here with Dennis when I came in, shook his head then charged me. I reached up and caught the bat down swing, the strength still flowing through my body. He looked just as shocked as Dennis did when I twisted the bat away from his hands with no effort. He reached behind him to grab for something.

Fearing it was another gun, and not wanting the nearby cops to come and lock me up for disturbing the peace, I swung as hard as I could. The bat caught his chin in an upswing, and with a sickening crunch as loud as a gunshot, broke his neck clean through. His head continued to roll back from my swing, and he looked at his buddies as he died, falling backwards to land in front of them.

I looked at the last four guys, and saw the stark fear on their faces. I looked at the bat in my hands, and wanting to see how strong I truly was, grabbed the thick part in my hands, then brought it down over my raised leg. The resounding crack sounded like a homerun hit, and I was left with two pieces of ash in my hands. One of the survivors looked at his dead buddy, and ran like a frightened rabbit.

One more joined him as I walked towards the last two. One was Brian, the other was a blond haired boy who looked like he was about to bolt. As I got near enough to smell the stench off Brian, I felt something flow from me to them. I didn't know what it was, but I the look in their eyes was of cornered prey.

"Please don't kill me," blonde boy whimpered as I reached under my shirt for my vials, only to find them all shattered. Shit! That must be where the blood was from.

"You two boys want a job with perks?" I asked, my voice amazingly calm even though I had just killed two people. I reached down and took blonde boys knife from his limp fingers. Both guys at my feet didn't even nod, but stared up at me with wide eyes. I took a bite out of my wrist, allowing the blood to start flowing. "You boys want to live to see the sunrise, start drinking."

Brian immediately started drinking, only stopping when I pulled him off my wrist. Blondie looked at my proffered wrist, then bolted for the door. I took the knife and threw it at him, hitting him in the head with the handle end. It did cause him to stumble and miss the slightly open door, and he slammed it closed with his body. Suddenly thirsty, I stepped past Brian towards Blondie as he started to pick himself up. He didn't hardly get to his feet before I shoved him back against the door, then yanked his head to the side revealing his neck. Pushing my fangs out with muscles I were beginning to realize I had, I bit hard into his neck. He struggled for a moment, then stood there, as gulp after gulp of his blood went down my throat. I could feel the blood thin, but I kept drinking him deep. Only when his blood quit flowing did I release his dead body.

"You," Brian started to say, before I shut him up with a serious look.

"Yes, I killed him." I admitted. "The people I'm with don't take violations of our privacy lightly. So you want to live, rule one, you never tell people about vampires being real. Got it?"

"Yes," he said, the fear still in his voice.

"Bring the Astrolite," I commanded, looking up at the passing moon. "Much to do, so little night to do it in."


	5. Chapter 5 - Thin Blood and Thinner Ice

Chapter 5 – Thin Blood and Thinner Ice

September 25, 2004 = Saturday

As we went down the stairs, I couldn't help but feel guilty for killing three people. I'd never wanted to kill, but now four people were dead by either my hands or my fangs. I knew logically that Dennis was going to kill me, or at least try, and had shot me five times but I still couldn't help but feel that maybe it could have went better.

Down on the beach, a few vampires still stood around a fire barrel as if trying to keep warm. It struck me as odd. I mean why would an undead person feel cold? I barely felt anything at all from being shot. Deciding it deserved a look, I walked up to one, who like Brian was shirtless. I needed to let Brian collect some stuff too, and didn't want him to get lost.

"Hey," I called and the guy jumped a little as he turned to face me, hands already clenching into fists.

"Listen, it's like I've told you types 'bout a thousand times now. We know we can't hunt 'round here, alright? We're minding our own business, so no reason to hassle the weaklings," he almost yelled at me. He was itching for a fight though, or maybe as I thought about his words, people were itching to fight him.

"Easy, I just want to talk," I said, holding up my bare hands, the same hands that could overpower a man three times my size and turn a human head into a baseball while still attached. Maybe they had a right to be afraid.

"You mean you ain't here to run us off?" He was lowering his hands and straightening his fingers, so maybe I could learn something.

"Um, no. Is that common?"

"We're getting pretty sick of it. Someone citing domain or in the worst cases, hunting us for sport. Don't know why, either. We all seem to have the same disease," he cast his eyes down, then kicked at the barrel. "Ah hell, who am I kidding? We're a bad horror show, alright? We seem to be the runts, the mistakes. You types call us thin-bloods. I say we're all equally screwed."

"Amen to that," I said, thinking about the Prince. My head was on a chopping block, and the sword was already raised. "I'm new to this myself. What's a thin-blood?"

"Damned if I know. I know you don't want to be one," he replied, shaking his head. He looked at me with a serious look, then went, "You seem to be in the loop, you tell me."

"I was still breathing, yesterday," I quipped back, realizing just how screwed we all were. I needed info because you can't just dig into a chest, even if you know everything about how its put together, until you know what you're looking for. Otherwise you could spend hours and find nothing. "How did this happen to you?"

"I'd just come to town for a surf tourney, seems like years ago now, but it's only been like 6 months. Every night during the finals I used to hit the local diner after the beach parties fizzled out in the AM. That's where I met her. She had a natural beauty, not like all the plastic dolls littering the sand. Her name was Lily. I remember introducing myself, the way she seemed grateful for the company. Well, a few nights after our meeting, we were and the beach alone and..."

He kicked at the sand, and I felt sympathy for him. He had it worse than I did. At least I was on the inside, even if I was on the chopping block. He was also turned against his will, but unlike me, he was hunted and hated. Pushed out and away, I hoped he knew what he was, but I needed to know what a thin-blood was, so maybe I could help him.

"She tried to tell me what she was, but I didn't understand. And so, she showed me. I was furious with her when I took it all in. I cursed her and left, never really knowing what I was. I realize now how she must've felt. So here I am, a mystery to meself."

"Well, I can tell you one thing. You're all vampires, though the preferred word is Kindred. You do need blood to survive, but you don't need to kill to do it."

"That's what Lily tried to tell me, but what I don't understand are the rules and the terms and the reason some of 'em are at our throats claiming we're harbingers of the apocalypse. That's what I want to know."

"I'll look into it, let you know if I find anything."

"Well, I hope you have better luck than I did. Only reason we're still in Santa Monica's cuz we haven't been run out yet."

"Oh, we'd appreciate it. Oh, 'fore I forget, names E. The black-haired beauty over there is Rosa. That nervous bloke is Copper, and the one who can't speak so well is Julius. Kids' gloves with them; they've had it rough."

"Any idea where I might start looking for information?"

"Seems no one'll talk about it. This all started that night in the diner. Maybe you could start there."

"Soon as I can," I said, seeing Brian come down in a shirt with some fancy sort of bag over his shoulder. He approached me, then I led him back out the parking garage up to the street. I stopped back by Mercurio's apartment, finding him still passed out on the couch. He wasn't breathing hard, and as I looked at him, didn't see him breathe at all.

"Aw, damn, did you die on me?" I so did not need this. The Prince would laugh himself silly if his agent died, then I would. I knew it. Thankfully, Mercurio came around, groaning a bit. He looked at me, then past me to Brian.

"He's with me. Hang on, got you some vicodin. It'll ease the pain."

"Ohh, holy Christ I needed that. Are there any other survivors?"

"Two ran away. Dennis is dead. Brian here is my new ghoul."

"Great, welcome to the club. I'll track the other two down later. If I have a later." I knew he was trying to kid but whomever was jerking his chain obviously didn't like screw-ups. Good to know, but I really needed him to concentrate.

"So what's the story with this Astrolite?"

"Astrolite, twice as powerful as TNT. Be on the other side of the world when you start that timer," He shook his head, coughing up some bloody phlegm. "You gotta make some place disappear. A warehouse, looks to be Sabbat."

Blow up a warehouse? I hope the Prince had a lot of pull in the FBI. I was going to be searched for all over this country, probably for years. Maybe he did, and this was just standard operation for Kindred.

"What do you know about it?"

"Heard a lot about that operation. I'd love to get in there, get my hands on some of their equipment. But it's suicide to walk in there, they got a small army of trigger-happy types and they're all packing'. There's a guy, never met him, but I've heard a lot about him. Name's Tung, Bertram Tung. He's one of you types. If there's anyone who knows more than me about this city, it's him. Unfortunately, he's hiding out at the moment."

"Why?" I asked, knowing I wasn't going to like the answer. Why was this getting complicated?

"Tung's lying low cuz of Therese, Therese Voerman. You know her? Word is Therese and Tung are feuding. Don't know the details. My take's that Tung thinks he's about to get whacked, so he's gone underground til Therese calls it off. If you want to put that warehouse into orbit anytime soon, you're going to have to get Therese to call of the feud."

"Where can I find her?" I asked, hoping it wasn't outside Santa Monica. I was on a short leash after all, and while I didn't know how well their eyes were watching me.

"She and her sister, Jeanette, run the Asylum just a few blocks south of here. Some freaky customers frequent that place. I try not to do business there."

"Alright, guess I better head to the Asylum."

"Take my bag, by the door. Got a gun in it. Thirty-eight special. Leave your ghoul here, though, we need to talk."

Brian gave me a pleading look, and I felt sympathy for the guy. But Mercurio knew things that Brian probably should know, like if he needed to register as a ghoul and how much his life was going to change.

"He's got a point," I told him, as I picked up the bag and slung it over my shoulder. "Stay here, but defend yourself in necessary, and keep him alive."

Heading back out, I began thinking of the ghoul I'd made in the clinic. Not wanting to lose track of her, I swung by. Getting in was easy, as the three in the morning tiredness hit everybody and no one was paying attention. I went into the exam room I found her in, only to find it empty. "Shit," I swore. I had hoped to keep tabs on her, but she'd been transferred to who-knew-where. Without her name, I couldn't hope to find out anything more.

Heading down the hall, I found an office door unlocked. I checked the computer, but it seemed to be mostly administrative. I did find a list of personnel, though I needed patients. On the other side of the hall, I checked the other door. The door here was locked, and remembering my new potence ability, let the strength flow through my arm. The sound of the lock busting was loud, though quick. Ducking inside before someone saw me, I checked the computer.

One of the first things to jump out after I hit a button was the 'Patients' tab. I quickly opened it, only to be prompted for a password. Cursing silently, I pulled open a drawer. A stack of memos lay inside. I shuffled through them, finding one marked with a password. It didn't tell who it was from, but it gave the new password as 'hippocrates.' Typing it in, I gained the system, and found information on four patients. The first was H. Poe, and she was listed as having been in critical condition. She had been transferred to Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles. I checked the others, but most of them were just guys who needed to keep it in their pants and take their penicillin. God, men are such pigs!

Going back to the door, I cracked the door and checked outside. A security guard was walking the hall, but he didn't appear to be interested in anything. I slipped out as he was faced away from me and quickly walked down the hall towards the exit. Thankfully no one stopped me, and I was able to leave. Once I was outside, I headed into the alley and started walking towards Asylum.

I thought about Poe, sure she was the ghoul I had made. Though with the restrictions on my travel made it where I couldn't go retrieve her, I had to just accept the fact I could hunt her down later if need be. At least I knew her name, now.

Asylum was easy to find, though I was running out of night when I got there. You could still hear the loud music from inside. It wasn't Jewel, so I really didn't care. Going in, I found the usual bar fliers outlining the various acts set to appear. I didn't even glance at them. After cutting though the ID check area which was vacant, I entered the main club.

I hadn't even gotten the chance to glance at anything other than the fat guy tending bar before I was approached by the clubs hostess. I hoped it was the hostess. She was dressed as a complete slut. From the six inch high heels, to the white thigh high stockings and the barely-there mini skirt which was just longer than her panties but far short of her stockings, and the tied on white shirt which did not conceal her scarlet red bra. The slut-ensemble was topped with a red choker, that contrasted so sharply with her pale alabaster skin I was sure she either hated the sun or used makeup.

Pale alabaster skin? I did a double take real fast, even as she began to welcome me to her club. I caught the barest hint of fang and the realization I was talking to another vampire was like an electric shock. A fellow Kindred?

"What do we have here? Another scrumptious young plaything straight outta life and into my club? You smell new, little girl, life fabric softener dew on freshly mowed astroturf." She paused to take in my frightened look. "Ooh, I'm not scaring you, am I, duckling?"

"I just realized you were Kindred," I said, trying my best to keep my voice even. "You'd be the first real one I've actually had a chance to talk to since my..."

"You mean that farce of a trial? I was there duckling. The Prince wanted you dead so bad we all could taste it," she said, a trace of venom lacing her formerly sweet, innocent voice. "My name is Jeanette, and this bit of chaos crammed in a certifiable giggle is my club. I'd love to just give you funny feelings all night, sweetheart, but I really must trouble with some business. We'll reunite soon, I promise."

She turned and walked to an elevator set into a corner, and what I'm sure a lot of brain dead men came here to see was on full display. Shameless, really. She gave me one last smile as she stepped in, leaving me alone.

I took the in the bar scene. The dance floor was still full, and two people were at the bar. One, I noticed happily, was Knox. He had something dark in his glass, and was sipping it. A girl with red hair was also at the bar, waiting on a drink apparently. She had the tanned look common with girls today, and was dressed more modestly than Jeanette in tight fitting printed top and cotton pants. She waited, looking out over the club as if waiting on someone, thought I had the feeling she was trying to get picked up.

I'd heard girls talk before about getting so desperate they'd wait by the bar and wait on some guy to come along and hit on them. Samantha said once she got hit on by a girl, though I think that was more my friend trying to brag. I hadn't ever tried anything on a woman before, but I wanted to try feeding from someone without using violence, and I was getting a little thirsty.

"Hey, sweetie," I purred, still not sure how to attract a girl.

"Um," she said, turning to me. I tried to think of my best line but ended up saying one that I'd heard from one too many a desperate guy.

"Since I walked in here, I hadn't been able to take my eyes off you," I purred out, hoping my looks hadn't gone to hell since I'd been turned. My hair felt fine, but without a reflection I couldn't see myself at all.

"No," she drawled, her tone almost playful.

"Yes," I drawled back, hoping she took the line. She purred at that, smiling and probably thinking she was finally going to get out of here. I didn't have that in mind, but I could practically feel that jugular vein sing beneath her skin. "How about a kiss before I go?"

She wrapped her arms around me, and I gently brushed the hair from her neck, clearing the way to her jugular. As she lolled her head to the side, expecting me to kiss her, I leaned forward and brushed my lips against her ear. She giggled, excited by my playful act, and I brushed my lips over her neck. God, that jugular called to me.

Unable to hold back any longer, I let my fangs out and sank them into her neck. God this was heaven. The blood, now that I was able to take my time, was so much sweeter. I drank several deep mouth-fulls, before releasing my bite and licking the blood off her neck. It was only then I became aware that I was holding her up as she was passed out in my arms. Must have been heaven for her too. At least it tells me I'm not a complete monster.

I lowered her onto a bar stool, and leaned her up against the bar. I then turned to the bar keep, who wasn't even looking at us. I stepped up to the bar, and he looked at me as if just seeing me.

"What can I get you, beautiful?"

Beautiful? Really? Well, after seeing his bosses look I probably came across as better than most. "I'm looking for Therese. Where can I find her?"

"Therese? She's upstairs, bickering with Jeanette. I can hear them from here. Why do you need to see her?"

"I heard they're looking for a part-time hostess and wanted to talk to her about it," I lied, hoping that he didn't know any better.

"Damn, wish that was my job. Go on up and see her, just take the elevator behind you."

"Thanks," I called back as I walked to where Jeanette had disappeared to, and went inside. There were only two buttons, so I hit up and came out in a small hallway. There wasn't anywhere else to go, but the only door was locked. I could also hear them arguing. Apparently the sisters didn't get along.

I didn't much bother following the argument, but the paper on the end table did catch my eye. I thought it might be yesterday's but it was this morning's paper, and the headline was a story about a murder at the pier. Guy was strung up and gutted, according to the picture, but I just turned away. I didn't need to get caught up in mortal affairs.

Finally a slamming door pulled my attention back to the sisters, and I could hear steps come to the door near me. Therese was more bitter than Jeanette, but both had the same voice. When the door opened, I though Jeanette had just changed into a more professional attire. The woman before me was identical to Jeanette in body, but this one didn't have the gothic slut look. She wore a professional gray suit, and her heels were two inch, not six. She also wore glasses, but the lack of distortion told me that they were for show only, and not correcting any eye problems.

"Please, come in. I do apologize for my sister's crassness if it made you uncomfortable. She's unabashedly scandalous, but…in the club business, I suppose that kind of personality is a necessary evil."

"She's gone?," I said, looking around the room as I was led to the desk. It was large, and divided in half by a partition. On one side was a desk and computer, creating a small office space. The other side had a heart shaped bed that looked liked it belonged on a porn set, not that I knew of such things, and was setup for a bedroom. I knew they were sisters, but I was beginning to think they were twins. No one said different, but either something hinky was going on, or they were indeed twins. Time would tell, I guess.

"She's got issues she's still trying to get over so she's locked herself in the bathroom. Jealousy, really. You see, I was the family favorite and I'm the successful one and as you may have noticed, she's obviously starved for attention."

"That slut outfit? Yeesh, are guys that hard up around here?" I asked, which made the woman in front of me laugh. Taking it as a good sign, I continued on, "I assume you are Therese?"

"Therese Voerman, yes. I'm the proprietor of this club, and the only person whose good side it's in your best interest to stay on. What brings you to Santa Monica."

"I need to find Bertram Tung, who's hiding out because your feud."

"Tung's exile is self-imposed, I assure you. But then, what reason would I have not to hate that loathsome Nosferatu scoundrel. Bloody Nosferatu. They're so...unclean."

"Why do you hate him?

"He meddles in my affairs. He's a bad influence on my sister, and she on him. If you were in my place, would you let him compromise your authority? You wouldn't. I'd quite like it if I never had to hear that name again."

"Then can you put out the word that you've got no feud with him? Or at least tell me where to find him?"

"Why would I do either? Let him think I mean to kill him. That way, I don't have to worry about him sabotaging everything. Do you realize how this subterfuge makes me look to the Camarilla?"

"Do you realize how close my own neck is to the chopping block here?" I responded back, not caring if I was incidentally burning any bridges made. "The Prince is this close to killing me, and if I were to report back that I can't do his bidding because I can't find one Kindred because YOU have a petty feud with, how do you think the Camarilla will like that? I'm on orders to blow up their warehouse, so cut me a little slack here!"

Therese seemed to think at that. I didn't much care about politics, never have or will. She turned her chair to look at the partition, and I waited. I knew the sun was coming, and I needed to get back to my dingy bathroom before it rose, though I hated the thought of spending another day naked on the commode. Therese finally turned back to me, and the look on her face wasn't a very happy one, though her tone was still conversational.

"I'd be willing to put the word out that my grievances with Tung have been swept under the rug, but in return, you have to help me remove a particularly burden-some spirit from a property I'm looking to invest in."

"A spirit? You mean a ghost?"

"I forget your knew to this. Allow me to break you in. Yes, ghosts exist. Werewolves, mummies and I'd expect a whole lot of things I've never seen share the nights with us."

"So, what do I need to do?" At least I was getting somewhere now.

"Rumor is a personal item of a ghost's may be used to draw it out or excise it from its haunt. While I don't put much stock in heresay, it is my last option. So I want you to go to the Ocean House Hotel, find an item of the ghosts, and bring it back."

"I'll do it if you promise to call of the feud."

"Oh, I fully intend to do so. You'll find that dealing with me, on the whole, is appreciably more predictable than dealing with some of the egomaniacs that are my peers. So long as our business doesn't go sour, my word is gold."

"Good," I said, getting up to leave.

"Before I forget, take this," she said, offering me a key. "The only way to reach the Ocean House at night is through a tunnel in the sewers. You'll need that key to open the gate for that tunnel."

"Sewers?" I started to protest, then upon seeing her downright bitter face thought better of it. "If I must, very well."

"If you'll excuse me, I've got situations to set straight."

I walked back out the door and entered the elevator. Once downstairs, I headed straight out the door and back to Mercurio's to pick up my ghoul, Brian. He was actually outside, sitting on the steps.

"Where's Mercurio?"

"Back to his master, they came for him ten minutes ago," he replied, head bowed. He had the bag containing the Astrolite between his feet, and seemed tired.

"Well, nothing you can do. He is where he needs to be. Let's go home," I said, then started for my apartment. I looked at the sky, it was already brightening, the outlines of the buildings becoming visible. It was just before six when I entered the apartment. Brian kept quiet the entire way, eyes going up as he took in the dilapidated state of the apartment. He settled himself in, and then I had a moment of worry.

I couldn't lock myself in the bathroom. Brian was still mortal, and would need it during the day. That also meant I couldn't sit on the commode, arguably the cleanest part of the place. Taking one of the covers, I made a little pallet on the shower floor. I could feel the sun rising, and quickly stripped out of my clothes. Wrapping myself in a towel, I put my clothes on the desk.

"Brian, here's two hundred bucks. In the morning, at about nine or ten, I want you to go get me some replacement clothes. No more than two changes, neutral tones; grays, blacks. Just like what I've been wearing, a t-shirt, pants, a package of socks, panties and bras. Also, go by Good Samaritan in Los Angeles, and see if you can find an H. Poe, she's a redhead. She's also my ghoul. She was hurt here in town, and was taken to the local clinic, then transferred. If she won't, or can't come back, just let me know. Don't make a scene, don't get arrested. I need to know where she is and if she's alright."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

I felt the sunrise, literally, as I stifled a yawn. "I gotta…go through...the sewers...tonight, get a….light…batteries," I said, unable to stifle my yawns any longer. I staggered back into the bathroom, and my world sank into gray as I felt myself drop into blackness.


	6. Chapter 6 - Ocean House Hotel

Chapter 6 – Ocean House Hotel

September 26, 2004 = Sunday

I awoke the next night on my blanket in the shower stall. I was actually leaned against the corner, hands folded over my chest like a corpse on display. Brian must have a sense of humor. I still had my towel wrapped around me, thank god, and the door was still shut against the light. I got up, and folded the bed cover into a small bundle and put it aside. I then showered, toweled off, brushed out my hair, then brushed my teeth.

I looked in the mirror, praying desperately for my reflection to briefly appear, but it remained blank. Taking my toothbrush, I tried a brief experiment. I held it up in front of the mirror, but as expected it didn't appear. I poked the mirror with it, and though the mirror flexed with the pressure, the toothbrush still didn't appear. Holding it up high then dropped it. The moment it left my fingers it appeared in the mirror.

I don't know why my clan lost their reflections, but I was really beginning to hate whoever did it. How was I supposed to clean up and make myself pretty without being able to see what I was doing? Even basic makeup was impossible without a mirror, and I couldn't have Brian do it. I'd have to teach him how. As much as I hated it, I needed Poe. She'd understand how to apply makeup and do my hair. Also she'd be better able to assist me in making wardrobe choices. Depressed, I went out to get my clothes.

Brian was reading a surfer magazine when I stepped out, but upon noticing me, shut it and laid it aside. "I got your clothes, they're on the desk," Brian said. "I also went by that hospital, and uh, I couldn't find anything about her. Then they started eyeing me funny, so I left."

I sighed, I was hoping he could find her, but I would just have to hope the Camarilla had ways of finding her, or maybe if I could get out soon I could track her down myself. I looked at the bags of clothes, getting a little miffed that he hadn't unpacked them and put them away. I started to unpack, then realized, I didn't even have a dresser.

Feeling Brian eyeing me, I looked at him. He had a smirk on his face, as he felt he was soon going to get to see me naked. Well, I could deal with that. "Turn around." He didn't seem to want to, then grimaced and turned. It was odd, and I'd ask Mercurio if I ever got to see him again.

Soon I was dressed, and taking the flashlight out of its package. It was a long Maglite, that used four "D" batteries and was also good as a club. Handy really. I inserted the batteries, then checked that it worked. It did, and I clicked it off and put it in my bag. I then took out the thirty-eight. It was a small revolver, with shiny metal. I had to admit, I knew more about the flashlight then I did this thing.

"Brian," I said, noticing he was still turned to face the door. "Do you know how to shoot this?"

"The thirty-eight? Yea, its easy. Once its loaded, just point and squeeze the trigger," he said, I think with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"Ok, so how do you reload it then?"

He stuck his hand out for the gun, and hoping he wasn't going to shoot me with it, I handed it over. He turned it so I could see the left side. "This little button here, that's the release. Hit it, and the drum pops out. Tap the rod on the other end, and it'll eject the shells. Then just insert new bullets, snap it closed, and point and squeeze."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It's the easiest gun I've ever seen. Want complicated? Try the Desert Eagle. Semi-automatic fifty caliber with an internal magazine and enough power to break a wrist. For you though, you could probably empty it in a few seconds with the strength you got," he said, then handed the gun back to me. I thought about it, but decided to see how it went before I started buying guns to carry around.

Putting it back in it's special holster built into the bag, I closed it all up. I was a little thirsty, and weighed whether or not to head for Asylum to find a quick meal. I decided against it, and then went to head out the door. I turned back to face Brian, one last thought on my brain. "I'm heading out for Ocean House Hotel, don't know when I'll be back. If I'm not here in the morning, don't come looking for me. Got it? Stay here, I'll be back tomorrow night," I told him, then added under my breath, "Hopefully."

Brian didn't look happy but just nodded his head. Down on the street, I looked around for a sewer access. I found one, right at the entrance to the alley I lived on, so convenient really. I was about to pull the cover when I caught sight of a girl lighting a cigarette on the far side of the street. The mini skirt and tube top letting me know she was a hooker. I fought a brief war between wanting to get to the Ocean House, and needing a drink, but in the end my need for the red stuff won. I didn't know how long I'd be looking after all.

I walked over to her, and she looked me over, smiling a bit at what she saw. I was really starting to wonder what I looked like.

"Hey, sweetie, you swing both ways?" I asked, not sure how one asked for a date, and especially stupefied how a girl like myself asked for one.

"Hmm," she purred, looking at my chest, "for a hot one like yourself, how about thirty."

"Okay," I said, and she led me into the alley beside a tattoo parlor. Once we rounded a corner, and were outside of traffic, she dropped her tube top to reveal her breasts.

"Ready to make the earth shake?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, handing her the thirty dollars, which she hid down in her heels. I took her in my arms, kissed her briefly on the lips, then licked my way down her jaw. The stench of cigarettes was a definite turn off, but I needed a drink, and damn if that jugular didn't call to me. She never resisted my awkward attempts to hide my real reason for the love of her neck, and I bit hard and deep into her. She gasped as my fangs broke skin, then turned to moaning and writhing in pleasure as I drank her precious blood into me. Knowing she was probably my only meal for the night, I kept drinking until her blood started to thin, then I pulled my fangs out and licked the blood from her neck.

She was still breathing as I lowered her to the street, my vicious bite nothing but a giant hickey mark. She was still moaning in pleasure as I pulled my thirty dollars from her heel. Money was precious right now. Sue me.

Spotting a man-hole cover nearby, I let my supernatural strength flow and pulled the heavy metal lid off like it was plastic. I held the metal disk, then held it like I was about to throw a Frisbee. It was so light with my Potence ability it was freaky. I slipped down the ladder, pausing for a moment to replace the cover and hide my escape. There was no light here, so I began to pull my flashlight when suddenly it was if the light's came on.

"Whoah," I said, steadying myself against the wall. I pulled the flashlight out and clicked it on then noticed the freakiest thing ever. The beam wasn't white, it was black?! It was if someone had hit the invert color scheme on the TV, but I was seeing this with my eyes. Must be a Lasombra thing, didn't the Scourge say I was going to have an affinity for shadow?

Putting the light back in my bag as it was useless anyway, I looked down to the icky mess below me. Not wanting to ruin my shoes, I slipped them and my socks off and put them in my bag. I then rolled up my pants legs and gritting my teeth, stepped into the muck. Oh Therese owed me for this! It was like stepping into mud, all icky and getting between my toes, but I had doubts that it was mud I was stepping into, though I was sure it was brown.

Wading through the muck, I struck out towards the south where I thought the Ocean House was, bypassing several similar corridors along the way. I finally found a map posted on the way, I guess for the inspectors if they got lost down here. It was overlaid with the area above me, and from it I learned I overshot the desired sewage pipe. Getting proper directions, I headed to where I needed to be, soon coming to the locked gate Therese said was waiting for me. Unlocking the gate, I headed to the ladder beyond it, and found the appropriate ladder, and climbed to the top.

I had to use my Potence ability to life the man-hole cover, those things were heavy without it, and climbed out. After climbing out, I looked down at my feet. Yea, no way I was ruining my socks and shoes. I'd have to wait to put them on until after I found a functioning sink.

Standing up and checking out the area, I found I was in some kind of graveled parking lot, with a road right beside it. Damn Therese, bet she made me walk through that muck on purpose. It was a nice place though, very large and very fancy. It was being remodeled, or demolished, not sure which. They did have a crane though, so maybe remodeled. I could definitely see the charm here, and the lull of the nearby ocean was calming.

Definitely worth a remodel.

I walked across the graveled over lot, which was painful in my bare feet. I looked down to see most of the muck gone, which was a relief. I knew this was the parking lot because I could see the lamp-posts laid out in the typical grid. I walked up to the door, doubtful it'd be that easy. I was right. Locked. The fanciness of the lock meant that it was either really tough, or really flimsy. I doubted Therese would like that I destroyed her locks, so I looked back to the small office. Definitely some kind of foreman's office, centrally located, and looked portable.

I walked down the steps to it, glad to find it was unlocked. A small desk stood against, one wall. On the end wall to my left was a plaque with keys, easily finding one marked for the front door. I took it, and went back to the front stoop. I no more than set foot on it than a light exploded in front of me. I jerked back, looking at the offending light. Therese had said the hotel was haunted, and apparently the ghost within didn't like me.

Swell.

I unlocked and opened the door, stepping inside. The weirdest damn feeling came over me, telling me I should run. I did my best to shake it off, but it wouldn't go away. There was enough light that I didn't have a problem seeing, and deciding if I had to find a personal object, I needed to try and find its room while it was here. I headed for the double stairs, but a sharp crack above me dropped the chandelier on my head and dropped me to the floor.

Rolling the antique off me, I regained my feet and looked around. A slightly burnt copy of the newspaper caught my eye. It was a late edition of the LA Sun announcing the grand opening of the Ocean House. The photo showed a much nicer version of the outside, and I wondered how long ago this hotel had been built. The newspaper offered no clue, the date having been burnt off. The ghost took the opportunity while I was distracted to explode the vase at my stomach, ceramic shards ripping into my gut. I looked down at my ruined shirt, and decided I really hated this ghost.

I dropped the newspaper back on the coffee table, then started up the stairs, taking the right hand side. They seemed solid enough, as I started up. Halfway up, though, I fell through. It wasn't as if the wood was weak, more like something ripped it out from under me. My butt broke my fall, and I got back to my feet. The room was dark, but there were a few lights giving me an idea I was in a room in the basement. Some kind of rack was overhead, and I had to take a second glance to find the exit. It wasn't clearly marked. Place must be really old to not have those marked better.

The corridor out led me to an elevator. The doors refused to open, though. I looked at the doors briefly wondering if I could force them apart, when I realized the light hadn't come on. Okay, so the power is out. Needing to find the power box to restore power, I took the hallway back. I think I was directly underneath the stairs, so I headed to the rear of the hotel.

I had a brief flash of a girl with long back hair in a long white dress with a red sash around her waist flash by whimpering in fear. I turned at the corridor, sure I'd see her just feet ahead of me, but she was gone. My ghost was a girl?

I ran down the hall, trying to find her but the room dead-ended in some kind of room. It had desks, but they looked stored rather than used. Beside them was a set of shelves with bottles on it. A flash of purple lit the rack, and then they flew at me. I managed to raise an arm, but they ended up being more nuisance than weapon. I tried the door, but it had shut behind me.

"Idiot ghost," I muttered, needing to hear something, "I can wrap it like a pretzel." I let the strength flow through my arms and twisted the handle. What the hell? I twisted harder, but the lock refused to yield. I then hit the door, figuring I could break it the old fashioned way, but it still held solid. "Okay, maybe not so idiotic."

Walking the wall, I found a section along the far side where light seeped through. Giving it a kick, a hole formed into the next room. Getting on my knees, I crawled through to the other side, finding more desks and some overturned shelves. I tried the far door, but it too, was locked. Beside the door was another newspaper. I read the headline, if nothing else to pass the time. It said that there was a severed child's head found in a dryer, even showing the dryer in the picture accompanying it.

I was about to start wandering the room looking for another weak spot when the door creaked open. I opened it the rest of the way, and found myself back where I started. Great, just freaking great. I went back down the hall, turning left this time. The first door I found was the laundry room. Remembering the headline, I checked the dryers out of morbid curiosity, finding a key with a boiler tag on it.

Thinking it might be important, I took it and left through the far door. Heading deeper into the maintenance area, I found a door with a red light over it. It was also locked, making me really hate this ghost chick. Something nagged in my mind though as wrong, and not just overall creepiness of the place. Why would a woman kill a child, only to be running in fear? Or was it the child I saw running? Was that the ghost then? A frightened youngster running from her killer?

Too many questions. I headed through the door and down the stairs, finding myself with some large equipment whose use I couldn't guess at. All of a sudden, a bone chill of fear crept over my skin. It was worse than all the things Simeon had ever done to me when I was still alive all wrapped in a cold drizzle running down my spine. I turned to the right to check for a control panel and I saw a man walking towards me, axe in his hands.

RUN!

I was beating on the elevator doors, my nails having left scratches in the shiny metal when I regained my senses. I didn't know how I got here, but I headed back down to the machinery room. It was starting to make a little more sense, but I wasn't sure if I had it right yet. The ghost that was haunting everyone wasn't the girl, she was just the victim. It was the guy with the axe. Back in the machinery room, I still felt the dread running down my spine, but it was manageable this time.

I kept looking for an electrical box, not finding one at all until I was at the back of the room. I opened the gate, and flipped all the switches on. The machinery around me roared into life, and a few pipers burst open spewing steam. I picked my way back through the maze, but it seemed that damn ghost kept bursting pipes around me giving me slight burns on my exposed skin. I was glad when I got back to the door, I stopped, watching as my burnt skin lost its red look and returned to its normal pale tone.

Once I was healed, and sufficiently calmed down, I headed back to the elevator. It was waiting for me, and I quickly got in. I was hating this ghost, really hating him. What kind of sicko kills a family?

The elevator took me to the second floor, which was where I wanted to be. I was just about to step out when I saw the picture shake. Ducking quickly around the corner, I decided to search the far side first, as I could see the girl in a white dress hovering near the railing on that side. I headed over, getting pelted by pictures and lamps along the way. I wish the ghost would learn a new trick, this one wasn't working and was just making me more determined.

As I got closer to the two chairs and the end table, the ghost disappeared leaving behind another newspaper. The headline on this one detailed the death of a second child in the hotel, having been 'chopped up like firewood.' Barbaric, and they called me the monster.

I left the newspaper behind and passed another elevator. There were a few doors here. I opened the first one, finding a room with a double bed. I walked in and started checking things out. The only thing to really note was a child's drawing of a family. Something clicked, and I picked it up. The father was drawn as a man on fire, with a mother and little boy and girl drawn normally. After having seen the father's ghost, and reading the two newspapers, it was starting to come together. The father, for whatever reason, had killed his two kids. The girl in the white dress I saw must be the mother, who was still being tormented by her killer husband.

Well, I could fix his goat. I left the room and took the child's drawing with me. I wanted to make sure no ghost remained behind after all, and wasn't sure if the kid's weren't still haunting the place, though I hoped they weren't. I left that room, and went to the next. I no more got inside to start rummaging through the drawers when the light's went dark. I tried to will my invert-o-sight into being, and though I felt the change still couldn't see anything.

Weird. Something must be messing with my sight. The light's slowly came back on, as if someone were messing with a dimmer switch, and since everything came back inverted, I knew it worked, something was just wrong. Maybe it was because the blackout was supernatural, and not just an absence of light like in the sewers. I was going to need to find another Lasombra and ask them that. I looked around the room, losing my own supernatural vision to find 'Get Out' etched into the wall.

I scoffed at the idea, I was in this one for the rest of my life, if need be. Searching around, I found one of the drawers by the bed had a key in it so I took it in case I needed it. I guess I was going to become a klepto, but I'd make sure to leave their keys by the door when I left. Outside I was going to turn left again when I saw the girl in white hovering at the other end of the hotel. Knowing she was trying to help me, now, I went that way.

She was hovering by a door when I got there, but unlike most other times when she'd disappear as I got close enough to see her, she stayed until I was almost on top of her. The red sash I thought she was wearing before was actually a mortal wound to her side, the red being her blood-stained white dress. The deep wound slashed from her right breast, through her rib cage to reveal bone and down into her stomach and was deep enough that as close as I was, could see her upper digestive system. She lifted a hand and pointed at the door without looking up, then faded out of existence. I tried the handle, but it was locked. Remembering the key, I tried it. It worked and I entered a badly burned room.

There was a patch in the floor, and an ethereal woman's voice whispered throughout the room, "Down there." It was eerie, and powerful, and set the hairs on neck standing straight out.

I kicked out the patch, and dropped down into a small bar and restaurant combination. Another newspaper was sitting on the bar. It detailed a murder suicide, which I was already figuring out. It also said the killer was the one believed responsible for setting the fire. I looked out the door, finding I was on the ground floor of the hotel, where I thought I'd be. That still left two floors to sift through, and though I'd not been here an hour, I think, knew this search wouldn't take long with the help I was getting.

The only way out seemed to be to use the dumbwaiter. I hit the button, and it opened up. It would be a tight fit, but it seemed to be the way to go. I climbed in, and as soon as I slid my head past the doors it shut me in. I was about to get scared when it gently lowered me, the doors at the bottom opening for me when I got there. I immediately sprang out, in case the mean ghost tried to harm me.

I found myself in the hotel kitchen, and a slightly burned book on the counter. I picked it up, opened it and found that it was a diary that belonged to a Jennifer. I flipped to the last page, dated June fifth in fifty eight, and was dumbstruck.

'Oh my God, Ed covered in blood... coming to kill me... locked myself in the bathroom... he's gone crazy... he keeps shouting we'll be together forever and he'll never let me go... someone please hel...'

I put the book in my bag, as a personal item of the ghost's, it was perfect for my intentions. I could hear the pots begin to rattle, and then Jennifer's voice whispered in my ear again. "He's coming."

I tried the far door but it wouldn't budge. The pots and pans began to fly around the room, and I knew the killer ghost was causing it. I ducked beside a rack to avoid the debris as they pelted the door. Finally something large hit the door, crumpling it enough to open. I ducked through and found myself in the storage room. At least he wasn't making things fly in here. The sounds of things pelting around the kitchen still rang out, so no going back that way.

There was a ventilation grate in the wall over a small shelf. I ripped it off the wall, then climbed into it, the sounds of the kitchen's disasterous remodel fading behind me. I popped the grate off the other end, and Jennifer whispered in my ear again, telling me to be careful. I was glad she was helping me, and I made a silent vow I'd see her clear of this bastard Ed.

I plopped out into an elevator shaft. I no more than got to my feet when a wrenching sound overhead brought my head to reveal the elevator dropping to fall on me. I jumped for the maintenance access, rolling hard into the far wall as the elevator crashed into the ground beside me with an ear shattering boom.

Ed was really pissing me off. I got to my feet, and looked up. I could see where the elevator doors were open on the top floor. Deciding that was where I needed to go, climbed the ladder. I ran out of ladder on the third floor, thankfully that was where the open door was. Turning to the door, I spotted a ledge that was just wide enough to jump on to. From there, I slid through the doors, finding myself in a hallway. I turned the corner to check for anything obvious and saw Jennifer running around the corner. I took off after her, Ed throwing small objects at me as we went.

Jennifer led me around to the far side of the hotel, to where the hallway had fallen in on itself from fire damage. I searched a few rooms, not finding anything. In room 216, I found a few fallen beams that seemed to lock a door closed. Getting closer, I could see the fire damage was more pronounced here. Odd, but then a thought hit me. The fire was supposed to have been set by Ed, and Ed said he and Jennifer would always be together. As it was a murder suicide, I could only guess that the fire had been set where Jennifer had died, and I wasn't close yet, the damage wasn't extensive enough. If I found a lot less damage elsewhere, maybe, but so far, this was just small potatoes.

I climbed the fallen beams, and found myself in a lightly burned room. Well, I say slightly burned. I could see the starry night in the missing roof. Still, not enough damage for what I would assume was the place where the killer had set the fire as I still had a floor to stand on. Ed must have been getting desperate to scare me off, as he set the walls aflame in some kind of mystical purple fire. I ran to the door, wanting to find the final destination before he tried to kill me with that axe, which I was sure would hurt.

The door give easily enough, and then the entire corridor burst into that ethereal flame. Jennifer flashed briefly at the end, as she disappeared through a door, and I took off at full speed. Ed started to literally bring the house down around me. I made the end of the hall with pieces of glass and wood sticking out of me, and I paused to pull them out. I was now at room 310, and thinking this might have finally been Jennifer's room, opened it up.

The first thing I noticed was the lack of walls. A quick glance to my left and I had the final piece I was looking for. This was the initial burn spot, as all those years watching crimes shows had taught me. The floor where the bed would be was missing with no walls or roof. The fire had burned longest here, spreading later to the rest of the rooms on this floor. I could even see the lighthouse by the ocean, leading a ship to safe harbor.

I stepped fully into the room, hoping I would easily see something that stuck out, when a bright flash nearly blinded me. When I could see again, the room was no longer burned, but was actually bright and sunny.

The sun! I knew it was an illusion made by Jennifer, and I couldn't help but open the curtain on the window. The sun was warm on my skin, and I felt a pang at what was stolen from me. I'd never need a tan again, thanks to Simeon and his cronies, but this little bit was heaven. After a few moments, I let the curtains close and looked the room over.

An exquisite ruby necklace was laid out on the table between two chairs. I went across the room and picked it up and the illusion of the room faded, leaving me on the other side of the burnt remains of Jennifer's room. Sadness washed over me and Jennifer herself appeared, finally looking up into my eyes.

"That necklace can be used to exorcise my husband," she stated calmly, her voice soft and not the ethereal whisper I'd been hearing. "With him gone, I can finally rest in peace."

"I'll make sure you get that chance," I said, and she nodded in understanding, then faded back out of existence. It was sad really, and I vowed to read her diary when I had the time. Maybe I could figure out why Ed had went psycho and killed his family.

Not needing anything else to satisfy Therese, I hopped down through the hole and exited the room. The elevator door was still open, and I leaned in and looked down. The doors below were open to the second floor, and I figured that would be the way out. I got on a knee, and started to lower myself to the next ledge, finally having to resort to using my Potence ability again to hold my weight. I hated to do it, as it was making me hungry, but I needed out of this mad house.

I dropped onto the ledge, and quickly stepped back onto the balcony. I didn't give Ed a chance to attack, because as soon as I was on the balcony, I vaulted over the railing to land with a quick tuck and roll on the ground floor. I sprinted the rest of the way to the door, opened it and left so quickly the door slammed behind me. I kept sprinting the rest of the way to the man-hole cover, taking a knee and started climbing down the ladder. I tried to move the man-hole cover but was forced to again let the strength flow from my Potence ability to get it back in place.

God I was hungry! I activated my shadow sight, and walked out to the sewer. A rat crawling across a pipe caught my attention. I'd seen movies before, like Interview With A Vampire and it said rats could be used as a blood source. I didn't know if that were true or not, but I was hungry enough to find out. I caught the rat by lunging real fast and quickly brought it to my fangs. I no more than got one mouth-full of blood before it died in my hands. The blood was lacking in taste, but it did take some of the hunger off. I could feed when again when I hit the street, anyway.

I headed along the main sewage pipe, finally ducking into a marked access point. I had to use my Potence ability to lift it and get out, but I finally put my dirty feet back on solid pavement. I didn't recognize this part of town, but the convenience store was welcoming. I went over, noticing that it had outside restrooms, like many stores out here. I headed into a ladies stall, using the sink to wash my dirty feet. I toweled them dry, then slipped them back into my socks and shoes out of my bag.

Once I had my shoes on, I took my top off. The shirt was shredded beyond repair, resembling something a heavy metal rocker might wear. I only put it back on as I didn't have anything else to hide my bra with, and my bra stood out as being not-so-sexy lingerie. I needed a cell phone. Seeing as I didn't have anything to change into, and still feeling dirty from my sewer trip, decided that I should head back to my apartment.

I went inside, and asked the clerk how to get back to Asylum, finding I was only a few blocks away. I headed straight for it, then past it to the apartment, not stopping till I was home. I desperately needed a shower.


	7. Chapter 7 - Favors and Shadows

Chapter 7 – Favors and Shadows

September 26, 2004 = Sunday

Upon opening the door, I saw my ghoul Brian in bed with a magazine in hand. One look at the model splayed across the two pages made me shake my head. Guys are such pigs!

I didn't even acknowledge his existence, just rummaged in my bags for a second set of clothes and showered, making sure to scour my legs clean of any residual muck. After the shower, I didn't bother brushing my teeth, and just dried myself off. Stepping back into fresh clothes, I was about to open the door when I heard Brian open the main door.

"Brian, what happened to Dennis?" It was a female voice, high and soft, and I paused for a moment to figure out what was going on.

"He got killed, Sharon," Brian said, "I got a new boss, now."

"You still got the shit, though, right?"

"Yea, I got it, had to get a new supplier, so the price went up," Brian said. Damn, knew I was forgetting something. I didn't want to stop Brian from making money, money I could desperately use, but I hated being locked up in this crummy bathroom! What was that smell, anyway?

"I only got forty," she said, her voice whining.

"Maybe we could, uh, work something out," she said, her voice still high and soft. Could vampires still vomit?

I waited for several long minutes, hearing nothing. I hoped Brian had the presence of mind to take his fun elsewhere. After five minutes, I eased the door open, and immediately regretted it. Brian and Sharon were in the bed, a pile of clothes beside it. The motion the cover was making left no doubt what was going on, and I felt uneasy, even if I had a measure of protection as I held his leash.

Seeing as they weren't noticing me, and hoping I could silently slip away, I decided to try and check my emails. The Mac-like screen was easily accessed and took me right into my email. I had only one new email, from a Lacroix. The name tickled my memory, and then it struck me. The Prince! The email said that a sample of werewolf blood had been acquired and was at the Clinic and needed to be retrieved immediately. I was also told to put it in my mailbox when I was done.

Looking over at my ghoul and his customer, I wondered how well I could sneak past them. I was supposed to be a master of shadows after all. I reached a hand out to the shadow, and pulled on it. To my surprise, I felt the drain as if my strength were kicking in, and the shadow became tangible in my hand, like a dark, inky blanket. Wrapping it around myself, my intro-vision kicked in, and I could see normally. I started to creep to the door, not attracting any attention. I eased the door handle around, and opened the door. The creak of the door drew Brian's attention, and I unwrapped the shadow around me so he could see me leaving. He nodded, never stopping the festivities with his well-endowed customer that kept her boobs jiggling while I slipped through and closed the door, letting go of the shadows as I did. It was interesting, molding shadows like that, and I grinned as I headed out the door. Knowing that the best way to keep my head attached was to satisfy the Prince, I decided to get the blood first.

At the end of the alley, I stopped. One thing I was bound to run across were locked doors at the clinic. Even the offices were locked. I didn't want to go around spreading wanton destruction, I needed a better way. Heading left, I decided to check out the pawn shop I lived over to see if it had anything that might help. Once through the door, I went to the guy behind the counter.

"How's it goin'? You, um, lookin' to buy or sell or..." he stammered, eyes glancing up and down. As if I had to guess what he was staring at?

"Hey, I need a way to get through locked doors," I said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Alright," he said, as if waking up. "Got a set of lockpicks, all wrapped up like a Swiss Army knife," then he pulled out the picks and set them on the counter along with a magazine that seemed to detail how to use them. "Everything you need to start picking doors like a pro."

"How much?" I cooed, hoping it wouldn't cost too much.

"A hundred."

Wow! So much for locked doors. I thought about trying to do this without them, but the memory of the lock snapping was what finally brought my money out of my bag. I couldn't afford to keep replacing clothes after every fight, and needed to get smarter. Tucking the picks into a pouch on the outside, I started to read the magazine as I went out. Fairly easy stuff, most of it was just a matter of holding down the pins in the right sequence, which if you turned the knob a bit and jiggled the pins up and down you'd get the right sequence and open the door. The accompanying picture illustrated the point, and now I knew why keys had that serrated look.

Great!

Feeling hungry, I stopped at the street and looked around, finding a few hookers looking for customers. I put the magazine away in my bag and walked up to them, deciding to ask the blonde for her services.

"Hey honey, looking for a date?" she asked, running a hand around my waist and playing with my backside.

"Yea," I said, then stuck my bottom lip out in a mock pout, "but I'm a little short of cash."

The hooker bought my story, and with an 'aww', led me down the alley. When we rounded the corner, I pushed her up against the wall, and kissed her. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around me, and I kissed my way down her cheek to her neck. Once my lips met her neck, I let my fangs extend and sank my teeth into her neck gently. She moaned as my fangs pierced her skin, her body bucking against me in pleasure. I drank her blood until it thinned, then pulled my fangs out and licked the blood off her makeup covered neck. I looked at where I fed, seeing only the barest hint of a bruise, and decided that I would drink this way from here on. No sense in leaving hickey's everywhere. I let her collapse to the ground, then felt her bra for money. Finding the familiar square, I reached in and pulled it out, counting out a hundred bucks, and put that in my bag.

Walking down the alleys, I came upon the side of the clinic, then deciding I needed to practice my lockpicking, went to the rear entrance. Kneeling down, I pulled out the picks and selected one that would fit, and did like the magazine taught me. It took me a few tries, but soon the handle turned fully, and I opened the door. Now I just had to find that blood.

Up or down? Well, the blood bank was listed as being downstairs, evidenced by the sign pointing down the stairs, so I headed down. The blood bank door itself was unlocked, and an attendant was waiting inside a glass booth.

"You next up for the needle? Your donation could save a life, you know," then he shook his head, an impish grin on his face. "Oh, but itsn't it a little late for altruism? I don't think you're here to buy blood at all. I bet you're here to take blood. Am I right?"

"You offering, ghoul boy," I snapped back. I hated to get caught off guard, but ghouls were hard to spot without tells. That grin didn't disappear off his face, though.

"Right down to business. None of this pretend I don't drink blood shit. Very refreshing to find a decisive customer. I respect that. So, what'll it be."

"How about werewolf?" I asked, hoping as a ghoul he'd know about it. Maybe this would be easy.

"Werewolf? Listen, Betty, ain't no Kindred going after one. We're not that stupid," he spat back.

"The Prince sent me down for a bag of it. Apparently some tabloid sent it here to be tested, and I have to get it before that can happen."

"Oh, well you'll want the top floor then. That's where the testing is done," he said, as if we hadn't just had a fight.

"Great, thanks," I said, and turned and walked away. Well, at least I knew where to get blood if I couldn't find a neck to bleed. Though, I think I'd rather take it fresh than bagged. I went back up the stairs, to the second floor, but the door here was locked. I knelt by it and began picking it, easily getting the tumblers right and the door open. This was so easy I might even become a professional thief.

Once inside, I crept along the wall, the low illumination helping to hide me in the shadows. A guard on patrol came out into the corridor, looked around, and then turned to walk deeper into the building. Just great, I needed the run of the place, and now I had security to deal with. I paused for a minute to decide how best to handle this turn of events, but knew I was forced to play the monster. He was going to die. I couldn't let the werewolf blood be tested, not with the Prince monitoring the situation.

I waited in the shadows, as the guard came back around. I then stretched a hand into the shadow, willing them to start moving. The shadows came alive around me, and the guard jumped back as one shadow took form in front of him, and made to jump at him. He landed badly, his half-drawn pistol skittered away. I then pulled on the shadows again, blanketing him in darkness. I could hear his muffled scream as the cloud enveloped him, then nothing. I walked over and picked up his gun, tucking it into my bag, as the inky cloud dissolved. The guard shivered once as he lay on his side, then lay still.

I knelt by him, checking his pulse to find it gone. He was dead. I had killed him with my shadows. I turned him onto his back to find his eyes still wide in terror. I ran my finger over his eyelids to close them, and then pulled the keys from his shirt pocket. The nearest door was marked CIS, and the guard's keys unlocked it. Inside was a computer, and not much else. Well, that was a waste.

I walked around, ducking when I found a few glass windows being watched by a camera. I looked at the camera while slinking back into the shadows. With the guard dead, I knew the cops were going to want to watch the video footage on this floor. I continued on, finding a door marked security. I unlocked it and eased it open, finding it unoccupied. It did have the security cameras, and after looking around sat to the computer. It was easy hacked, as almost all the keystrokes filed in the system were of camera 1, or camera 2, and optometry. Really, they couldn't do better?

I hacked in, and accessed camera 1, which was something called the controlled substances and deactivated the camera. That also kicked on the other cameras, which according to the various CCTV screens weren't in important areas anyway. I went back out, and found the door for controlled substances, which was about the only other door up here. It was locked, and after several long minutes with the tumblers, finally opened the door. The cabinet was also locked, and needed some kind of access code to open.

I leaned against the cabinet, and thought about it. There had to be a way past it. I looked at the computer pad, and decided that the best way to check the offices again. But where? I remembered the computer behind the door marked CIS, which usually mean Clinical Information Systems. Stuff you knew when you worked in the medical field, or was going to like I was.

I headed back into that office and accessed the computer, the computer easily hacked open. I was going to have to remember to thank my friends in high school for teaching me how to find passwords in the keystroke files, then remembered I'd have to kill them after. I was really starting to hate these Traditions. Who were we anyway? Anatevka refugees?

The menu was pretty straightforward, listing a door and a safe. I accessed the safe, and unlocked it. The computer acknowledged the request, then told me that the camera had been turned on for my safety. Nice to know, and since I knew where the camera system operated out of, I was going to erase that thing before I left.

I went back to controlled substances, found the cabinet door unlocked, and rummaged through it to find the werewolf blood. Once I had it in hand, I stashed it in my bag, then closed the safe. Hoping no one found it suspicious that it was unlocked, I went to the camera control system in the security room, then pulled up the footage. I was just about to think the camera was busted when I saw the safe open, but I never showed up on camera. I began to think about that, then figured that since I was robbed of my reflection, anything that required one to work, like modern cameras, were useless against me. Maybe an old, old 1850's style tintype might get me, but who even knew how to operate one?

Well, if I could find one, I'd learn if I could see myself again, at least to know how bad a hot mess I was looking.

I pulled the tapes that the system operated on, stashing those in my bag as well, then left the scene. I needed to get this in the mail to the Prince, so I went back to my mailbox. Once I had the blood in, I locked it back and went up to my apartment. Sharon and Brian should have been done by now, and it was soon going to be dawn. I didn't even knock, and opened the door to find a still naked bimbo and ghoul on the bed with a rock in a crack pipe to her lips, while Brian lit it for her. They jumped when I walked in, Sharon dropping the pipe in the bed with them and giving me a dirty look.

"Wait your turn bitch!" she spat at me.

"Brian, if you're done playing with her you can show her out," I said, not even trying to look at her obviously enhanced bust. I didn't need this drama this close to sunrise.

"Who do you think you are!" She shouted.

"His boss," I said, keeping my cool. "And if he's still peddling his rocks, he's not showing you shit."

"Got something better?"

"Ask Brian, he's on it," I said, nodding to my ghoul.

"Brian, sweetie," she cooed, "What's it like."

"The best energy shot you'll ever get. Like being on fairy dust and X at the same time. One hell of a kick though, and it lasts too, like a month," he said, rubbing his manhood. "I swear, I feel stronger, better than ever."

"What's it take to get a hit of that?" she asked. I stood at the entrance to the kitchenette, eying the growing light outside, not sure if I wanted the bimbo for a ghoul. If I did, it'd be for the money she'd make me. Like, what was I supposed to do? Get a job? The Prince would laugh his fangs out.

"Three grand," I said, finally naming a price. If she could come up with that much, she might be worth it.

"But that's like," she started, then she stopped. "Take anything besides cash?"

"Cash only," I told her. "You have nothing else I want."

"Great," she muttered, starting to slip her clothes back on. Brian stayed leaned up against the wall, and I swear I was missing something. One look down and I felt uneasy again, but I sure as hell didn't want to show it. I was supposed to be in charge here.

Once she was dressed and out the door, I checked my remaining clothes. I had enough clothes for one more night, and decided to try sending Brian out to wash my clothes. I took the pad from the desk, thankful it had a pencil in the drawer, and started writing out instructions for Brian on how to wash my clothes. Once I had it done, I noticed a fancy embroidered card waiting on the desk. The initials on it were MJS, and I read it.

"At your convenience, please come and visit me in my home downtown. I leave this to guide you. Dark blood, our curse, a light this verse. Such power I sense in one so young, come find me where burns the mystical sun. M Strauss, Tremere Regent."

"Brian, who brought this?"

Brian who had finally slipped his pants on, stood up from the bed. "Some creepy guy, made my skin crawl. He was definitely Kindred and said to make sure you got that."

Well, I couldn't head downtown until I blew up that warehouse, so he was going to have to wait. I stashed it, along with the security tapes in the drawer, then stashed my messenger bag under the desk.

"Brian, I left you specific instructions on how to wash my clothes. See to it that they all get washed before I wake up."

"Yes, mistress," he said, grimacing. Probably thinking he was going to have to hold my bra in public. Well, he could man up.

The sun must have been rising, cause I was tired. I stepped into the bathroom and spread the blanket in the shower stall. Once I had my "bed" made, I started to strip. I actually had the towel wrapped around me before the first yawn, and made myself comfortable sitting in the corner. Leaned up against the wall, I let myself fall into sleep, hoping the next night was better.


	8. Chapter 8 - Hackjob

Chapter 8 – Hackjob

September 27, 2004 = Monday

I awoke the next night, still leaned against the wall. I went through my now usual routine of packing up the bedding, and showering. I didn't know if any of it was necessary, but it helped to keep things normal.

I needed normal.

Under the shower head, my thoughts went back to the security guard. He was the fifth man I had killed. Were our secrets that important? Was this all I had to live for now? Killing to keep my existence secret? My thoughts went unbidden to the warehouse I was supposed to blow up. Surely no one would be guarding it, right? No one ever stole anything if it wasn't guarded, no guards meant there was nothing to steal. It was that worthless.

I shook my head, holding it under the head to rinse the lather our for the third time. I didn't need to wash my hair so thoroughly, but I couldn't help but feel dirty for even thinking about Simeon's warehouse where my life had been ripped from me. That place had been crawling with people, and now that I think about it, humans. They weren't Kindred, just normal people who knew what they were dealing with and liked it.

Feeling trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place, I decided to just focus on the task at hand. Finding Tung. The guy was my link for getting in anyway. Maybe he could get me in behind everybody and I wouldn't even have to kill. Best shot at it anyway.

Turning off the shower and toweling dry, I wondered how the Sabbat kept people around them loyal considering we were the undead predators of human existence. Fear? Or were they ghouls? If that's the case, how did Simeon keep the like hundred people around his one warehouse supplied in blood? Too many questions that needed a teacher.

A teacher, now that made me smile. I was the only Lasombra for hundreds of miles. The Camarilla didn't even know how my shadow powers worked, and I was thinking of a teacher. Looking for my nonexistent reflection as I brushed my fangs and teeth, I thought of my clan. Was Simeon going to make me a monster? Probably, I mean, he did laugh about me killing a man. Or did we need to kill the first time? Well, that makes no sense. But then again, my heart didn't beat, I didn't breathe, and yet I walked and talked.

An undead predator. And people? They were my prey. I could feel something inside me, crawling through my skin. It reminded me of when I met Ed for the first time, and I tried to squash it. I couldn't help but shudder as the sensation passed through me, filling me. Then it settled. I mentally sighed as I rinsed the toothpaste out of my mouth. Definitely needed a Kindred teacher if only to help answer the basic questions like what the hell was that crawling in my skin?

With a towel wrapped me, I left the bathroom. Brian wasn't on the bed, but my clothes were carefully folded on top of the desk along with a paper bag that contained a new outfit. I pulled the clothes from the bag to find a new pair of black denim skinny jeans, a wine colored halter top, and a pair of black vinyl motorcycle riding boots that had a one inch heel. Also in the bottom of the bag were two makeup kits, one with glitter and one plain. Not a bad gift, but I wondered how they knew my size. I mean, perfectly. Unless this was some sort of present from Brian, which made me oh so warm and fuzzy inside. Not!

I slipped the jeans on, and after doing the standard skinny jean wiggle had them buttoned up. I flexed my legs, and found them flexible enough. I slipped on a pair of my socks, then slipped my feet into the boots. I eyed the halter top and slipped it on, finding it a bit tight around my stomach and ladies, but otherwise perfect. Using my brush I began to brush out my long, black hair so I could tie it in a ponytail when Brian walked in.

"I see you found Sharron's present. She's hoping you'll drop the price a bit."

As if. Though, it seemed more likely that Poe had eluded me and I was going to need a female ghoul to do my makeup. Or teach Brian. Maybe I could teach a dog to do it. Ugh, I hated this!

"Fine, I'll change the agreement. She can get her fix if she defers her pay to me. She can sleep here with you, and she has to be here when I wake up to do my makeup."

"Ah," Brian started, turning his head and scratching his neck, "she can't do that. She works Tuesday through Saturday night at a gentleman's club called Four-Play, but the four is a letter. Classy place, but the owner is a complete ass."

"Swell," I said, then thought about how she was dressed. A complete bimbo, honestly. I didn't remember much about her, except trying to shoo her out the door before the sunrise. Maybe I should try again, over coffee or something.

"Tell you what, have her meet me at three. Any good local diners around?"

"Yea, across from that crazy all-night dance club, Asylum. Food's alright, but what are you going to eat?"

"Don't have to eat, just be there. Also, look into a pair of cellular phones. I need to be able to stay in touch, like this meeting. If something comes up, I need to be in touch with you and vice versa."

"I can arrange something, I think," he said, laying back in the bed with his magazine. The cover said Playboy, but I don't think it had anything to do with boys because that model had no bottom on to that corset and was using her hand to hide her naughty bits.

I set the hairbrush on the dresser, hoping I had it dry enough that it would be nice and shiny. I really needed to get this locket back to Therese, so Jennifer could be free of her murderous husband, Ed. I figured I'd make that my first stop, then see if I could find that diner E had mentioned. Maybe I'd run into Lily. Just have to keep an eye out for Kindred.

I stood, taking my messenger bag from under the desk. I checked it for everything, then slung it over my shoulder, knowing it was ruining my image. Well, if I wasn't on business I'd leave it behind, or maybe I should get another car. Maybe a Mercedes.

I headed out, then decided to let it ride. I might not live long enough to need a car. I couldn't park one in the immediate future anyway, living down an alley like this. It didn't take long to get to Asylum. I didn't see any Kindred on the ground floor, but there was a familiar face at a private table near the dance floor.

"Knox!" I called to the ghoul. He waved me over to his table, where I took a seat opposite him. He looked haunted, like someone was chasing him. "Whatsa matter, not get your fix?"

"No, but I probably won't though," he said, swigging his beer. "I screwed up bad."

"What happened?"

"I was supposed to watch this Asian guy who's been poking around Santa Monica. Bertram thought he might be a vampire or," he paused, shaking his head, "something like a vampire. I dunno."

"So, what happened?"

"This guy got wise to me. Now instead of me watching him, he's watching me," he said, getting rather animated. "I see him appear around me all the time, like off in the distance watching me then he'll like warp up next to me, then disappear."

"That must be unnerving."

"It's freaking me out! I know this thing is totally toying with me. I want to put a bullet in its head but who knows if that'll do anything. So I was waiting till I talked to Bertram but hell if I know where he disappeared to. It's messed up." He took another long swig of his beer, then set it down. "Look, I didn't want to ask you but since your a kickass vampire and I'm just the lowly ghoul, would you mind getting rid of this thing?"

"If I got time, I'll look into it. The Prince has me pretty busy trying to blow up a Sabbat warehouse."

"That place? Wow! You really are a kickass vampire! Bertram told me not to go near it."

Oh crapola. "Why?"

"The Sabbat guard that place with Mac-10's and shotguns. All over it too. At night, they even have vampires running around."

Just great. Bertram obviously had a way in, but then I was stuck. I was going to have to hope I could master my Shadows before I had to fight for my life, or go in like Ripley or Sarah Connor. Where does one get an assault rifle in California? Preferably one of those Rambo types that used several hundred rounds and had full auto.

I shook my head, but that just meant more killing. It was really tempting to run for it, but then I'd probably be hunted down like the Thin Bloods on the beach. I was being forced to kill, like the first guy I'd killed. The fact that they were likely all involved with my torture in the days before my "death" did little to assuage my conscious, but I guess I was going to have to accept it. They were the enemy, my enemy, and I was going to have to get used to it. Maybe I needed to accept that I was going to have to kill eventually.

"Oh, before I forget, take this," he said, sliding me a drivers license. The guy in the picture wasn't Asian, but the picture was so terrible I couldn't tell if he were heavily tanned or a brother. "I took that off the guy, but it's not him. Hope it helps you find him."

Great, detective work. Who did Knox think I am, anyway? Nancy Drew? "Alright, if I can find anything, I'll deal with it and let you know," I said, getting up.

I needed to talk with Therese, and Knox's problems weren't helping. I went over to the elevator, hit the button and waited. The doors opened after a brief wait, and I took it up to Therese's private room. I didn't wait, knowing she was expecting me and walked in on Jeannette putting her stockings on. Well, shit. Didn't want to see that.

"Not even a knock? I could have been undressing, and who knows what I would've had to do to you. You're here to see her royal majesty, Queen Victoria, aren't you?"

"Yea, just made it back from the Ocean House Hotel, and I brought that item for Therese."

"Well, she's out making a showing of how well her lips meet up with the Camarilla's backside," she said, finally straightening out up and facing me. "So, can I see it?"

Yea, right. I knew better than to let anyone have it besides Therese. I've watched enough movies to know better than to let anyone else handle the final part of a deal. Jeanette would probably throw it down a drain, or worse, take credit for my success. "Sorry, but I'm only giving it to Therese."

Jeanette started pouting. "I'm not just some silly doll, you know," she whined. "All my life my sister has made me out to be a joke. She told you I was an embarrassment, didn't she? That I couldn't tie my shoes, let alone hold on to something for her. Is that it?

"She's always belittling me," she said, sitting in front of her mirror and adding her Gothic white face paint. "She's the smart one, she's the favorite, the success. Well it's not fair! This club's success is just as much my doing as it hers!"

"I understand," I said, "but I still can't give it to you."

"Fine, you hold on to it," she said, her tone now patronizing. Oh, she was up to something.

"Hmm, since you were so willing to brave that big, spooky place for my darling sister, how 'bout doing a teensy, tiny favor for little, troubled me?"

"First, what is it?"

"Do you know Gallery Noir, next to the beach parking? I happen to know there's a charity event being organized there. Lots of influential Santa Monicans slithering in for token appearances. But there's one thing thing they don't know. The whole event's been set up by a Kindred trying to establish their own power clique in our city. We can't let that happen, can we? So I need a young upstart to spoil the milk.

"I promise it won't take long. Take this knife," she said, pulling a knife from under her dresser and handing it to me, "Give the paintings a good slashing. Don't get caught and don't turn it into a massacre. And steal the charity box, would you? Buy yourself something velvet."

"Fine. I do it and the feud will be called off?" This was starting to sound a lot like politics, and I hated politics with a passion reserved for well, politicians.

"I'm sure Therese will be thrilled to honor your agreement when you get back. But in the meantime, get to the museum and ruin those paintings, then come back tomorrow. Therese should be back then." I turned to leave, but then she spoke up.

"There was something about the paintings, what was it? O well, can't remember. Have fun duckling!"

I continued out the door, but her words haunted me. I dropped the knife into my bag, and entered the elevator, riding it down to the main floor. Knox still sat nursing his beer, and I just turned for the door, wanting to get it over with. Finding the beach access was easy, just head west, and doubled back to find Gallery Noir. Small place, a few lights on, and an overweight, a sleepy eyed security guard standing half in shadow watching the front door. Pitiful. At least there was a rear door down the alley. Noticing the barred "windows" along the side, I went back inside the parking garage and noticed a set at near the door that was rusted. Too easy with my strength to pop them loose.

I crawled through the window to the alley, heading for the rear door. I doubted the security guard would even notice. Rent-a-Cop wannabe. I had actually made it to the door, lockpick in hand, before I was noticed. Well, he was somewhat useful.

"Hey!" he shouted at me, running down the alley. "Hold on a minute there. I'm afraid you're committing a three-fifty one, tresspassing on private property. I'm gonna' have to ask that you vacate the premises immediately or I'll be forced to radio this in."

Two thoughts hit me fast, either leave, or kill him. I turned to face him, and decided to see if I could try for a third option. Eat him. I was hungry after all. Got to keep better tabs on that.

"Wow," I said, laying on the charm and cocking a hip. "The way you said that was so, commanding."

"Well, missy, that's just a natural response that people have to someone in my kind of position." The risk, the prestige, the authority," he said, sticking his chest out and doing his best to suck his oversized gut in. "It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it."

"Wanna know a secret?" I said, running a hand over his flabby arm, pretending he was really hot stuff. "Power is a real turn-on for me."

"Uh, yeah," he said, blushing hard. "It's the uniform, you know. Women just can't get over the uniform."

"Oh, don't stop talking," I breathed into his ear.

"Well, if I continue to engage you in conversation it's a violation of code six-one-three. You know, uh, you and me should hook up after I get off my shift."

Wasn't planning on waiting that long. "How about we get to know each other right now?" I breathed, then sank my fangs into his neck. He groaned as I drained him, taking most of his overly-sweet blood, then lowered him into the shadows

With the security guard out of the way, I picked the lock with ease and entered the gallery. There were four paintings already on display, arranged in the corners. I walked over to the one closest to me, pulling the knife from my bag. I slashed the knife across the canvas, then jerked back as the canvas glowed red and screamed in agony as some of my blood was ripped through my skin.

I stumbled away, looking at my arm, seeing it was already mending. That was new. Must be what Jeanette said about the paintings be "off." I began studying the paintings, noticing each one was marked with a golden sign. The one I had tried to slash first was marked "Cain Cursed By God." The one directly across from it was marked "Cain Kills Abel." Biblical Cain? I looked back at the other two, "Cain Meets Lillith," and "Cain Spurns Lillith." A sequence?

I slashed the "Cain Kills Abel" painting, but the painting stayed slashed. And my blood stayed inside. I walked over to "Cain Cursed By God" painting, then slashed it. Again, nothing happened, and that left me wondering. What kind of Kindred could do this? Taking a last look at the other two, decided that you'd have to meet someone before you could spurn them, and slashed them in that order. As I slashed the last one, a line of blood oozed from the canvas and I dove to the side, afraid of being attacked.

The blood formed a river, and as I looked at the center of the room, saw that it was pooling blood from all the paintings, and from somewhere behind me. I never got a chance to figure out from where, the blood coalesced into a form, that of a man, but nothing besides blood was there. It seemed to look at me, then charged at me.

I failed to do more than raise my arm to shield myself, before the creature slashed at my arm. He hit like a baseball bat and knocked me back. I caught myself at the wall, and brought my knife up and slashed at it. We circled each other, then it brought a hand up to slash me, but I dove right, rolled behind it, then used my Potence ability to bury the knife to the hilt in its back.

He reared back and then pitched forward, trying to throw me off, but thanks to my Potence and now much increased strength, was able to drag the knife down his back. It fell to its knees, and I pulled the knife out. Grabbing the creature by its head, I cut its head off clean off in one vicious swipe, and it dissolved into a pile of ash. Looking at my arm, I could see the large, bloodless gash that was healing a little too slow for me to be seen in public for a bit.

I looked around, finding the a small box marked charity and pulled out my lockpick. Didn't take a moment with the cheap lock to have it open, and pulled out three hundred in cash which I stashed in my bag. I then left by the rear door, and after crawling through the window I had opened up. I stopped to inspect my arm, finding it nearly healed, then decided to see if I could find Lily.


	9. Chapter 9 - Tying Loose Ends

Chapter 9 – Tying Loose Ends

September 27, 2004 = Monday

As far as diners went, I only knew of one, and I returned to it. I was tempted to go up to Jeannette and Therese's room and tell whichever one was there there job was done. As I looked at the door to Asylum though, I wanted nothing to do with those crazy sisters. I wanted out of this devil's contract, and the chance to find my own niche, whatever that may be.

Entering the diner, I found it mostly empty except for the short-order cook and the old lady at the register. She eyed me absently, and I walked up to her.

"What'll it be, honey?" she asked, in a tired, nasal voice.

"You ever see any pale, kind of strange types in here, really late at night?"

"That a trick question?"

Ok, so maybe a little more direct-ness is needed. "You see any girl's hanging out here? Pale girls?"

"Pale girls? Like the Fitzsimmons' albino? She hasn't been here in ages."

So no vampires. Maybe Lily wasn't the pale type, or maybe she hadn't paled out yet from a serious tan. "Ever hear the term 'thin blood?"

"Thin blood, sounds familiar. That one of those tropical diseases?"

Elation nearly had my heart beating. She was here. "Try to remember, I'm trying to find a friend. She's kind of a strange, pretty girl that would have been by recently. She's gone missing and I'm trying to find her."

"Oh, that girl. Nice girl. First decent human being I've seen in here for years. Not like all the junkies and crazies I normally see. Yeah, I remember her. Weird? She left a tip but didn't order a thing. Looked so hungry, too. Just sat there all night with a full glass of water in front of her, talking about this and that. She seemed lonely, scared, so I let her stay in the booth as long as she wanted. She left her stuff here, why don't you give it back if you find her."

"Sure," I said, taking the purse, "Thanks for telling me she was here.

I left the diner, then turned down the sidewalk, pausing underneath a lamp-post to examine what was in the purse. Not much, besides the lint, but I did find a photo of a girl with red hair in a tye dye tank top and low cut jeans. The back of said photo marked it as Lily, and was taken the month before at the beach where E and the thin bloods hid at. Also there was a printed receipt from Kilpatrick Bail Bonds for a Rolf Toten and a set of car keys. As far as leads went, this one went nowhere, but the bail bond might lead me to someone who might know where Lily went.

I checked a nearby phonebook for the address, and found it was just down the street from here. A quick walk later found me at a dingy little shoebox of a building. There was a small neon open sign still lit in the front, so I went on in. The dingy-ness extended inside the building, and the room's only occupant was a slightly overweight man in a red shirt and black slacks.

"Welcome to Kilpatrick Twenty-Four Hour Bail Bonds. My name's Arthur Kilpatrick. How can I help you?"

"Looking for some information on a person you bonded out. Name's Rolf Toten."

"Toten, huh. I remember him. Bonded him out just a few weeks ago. Euro-trash prick. His girlfriend bonded him out, put up her car as collateral."

Well, that told me just about nothing. Something nagged on my brain though, something a guy had told me back in high school. License plates…

"Got the license plate number? I'm trying to find her, return her purse." Ok, it was flimsy, but like I had anything to work with?

"Sure, the car is in the parking garage at the beach, anyway. Had it booted so it couldn't be disposed of," he said, sitting to his computer and looking up the information. After writing it down, another thought occurred to me.

"Wouldn't happen to know a Virgil Crumb? I found his driver's license on the sidewalk, and was about to mail it in to the DMV."

"Crumb? Might as well throw that ID in the trash, he's dead. Had to go to the morgue below the clinic yesterday and identify the body. Don't know what got into that guy, but he ain't right."

"Thanks Arthur," I called as I headed out, glad that I had at least a clue. Didn't know if that would help me or not. I headed back to the parking garage, knowing I was mainly just burning time. I still had like five hours till I met Sharron, so I could at least hunt down Lily. Since I had the license plate number, and vehicle model, it wasn't hard to find the car. I used Lily's car keys to unlock the trunk, finding nothing but a spare and some crumpled up papers, and a journal. I took the journal out and looked at it, and skimmed through it.

Most of what it covered was Lily meeting Rolf, the time she was turned, and her time as Kindred, up until last week. It also covered her meeting and accidentally turning E, and that he forced her out of his life. The last entry said she was going to the blood bank to steal some blood because she couldn't bring herself to feed anymore.

So, the blood bank was where Lily went. That meant I'd need to speak with ghoul boy again. Well, at least ghoul boy would know what happened to her. I put the planner and purse back in the trunk and closed it, then headed back for the clinic. I could also check the morgue for Crumb, see where that led me. I used the back door for the Blood Bank, soon finding myself looking at ghoul boy again.

"Need a fix?"

"Information. Young red-headed Kindred name of Lily came here not long ago to get blood, need to know what happened to her."

"Never heard of her," he said, his face carefully neutral.

That just struck me as wrong, if he remembered me, he should have remembered her. So he was hiding something. "Then you won't mind if I check things out?"

"Nobody is allowed back here, orders from the Queen Bitch herself."

I wonder if Brian talks that way about me? "Listen ghoul, Therese might not be able to rip through this wall, but I can," I threatened. "Open the door, or find out what we're like when we're angry, then you can say hello to my shadows. They scared that poor security guard to death."

He looked worried, and finally grumbled, "Fine."

I heard the door beside me buzz open, and I opened it. I started forward, finding the first hallway was a row of freezers. I checked each one, finding no bodies in it. The first one had a keypad in the back. Odd, what were they hiding?

I went back and continued my door to door search, but the door behind the freezers was locked. So they were hiding something. Letting my strength flow through my arm, I twisted the lock and broke it. Opening the door, I found Lily strapped into a donor chair, an empty bag of blood was hooked into her, and I wondered if they were keeping her alive for experimentation, or torture. Judging by the amount of blood on the floor around the two donor chairs, I'd say torture.

"Hunger, I need it," she breathed, head still hung down. She looked up at me, but there was hardly any life there, just a glassy sheen. "A drop of it on my tongue, I can smell it everywhere, blood..."

I started walking forward when she started talking again.

"Let me go," she said, pleading with me. "It's painful, like I'm going to die. It's calling, never felt like this before."

"Hang on, Lily," I said, undoing her straps. "I'll get you out of here."

I was just unfastening the last strap when the door opened. The orderly was saying something but Lily flashed by me in one step, jumped to the wall on the second, and tackled the orderly with the third. I watched her as she fed on the orderly, then as she finished she turned back to face me. It was like looking into a predator's face, our true face. She got up, leaving the orderly on the floor. I looked at his chest and it had stopped breathing, telling me he was dead.

"The heat, it's never been so satisfying. All of it, I drank until I heard his heart stop and I was sucking on a dry dead artery. It was euphoric," she said, a wicked grin on her face. Then her face lost it's glow, and she suddenly looked worried. "But I've, I've killed him. I've never killed anyone before. What happened? What came over me?"

Damn. I was hoping she had some answers. "I was hoping you could tell me. It's happened to me once before. I didn't kill anyone, but it took over. You are Lily? Toten's girl?"

"Yeah. He left me here, last year. I tried to steal some blood, heard they sold it here. I was hungry and I can't hunt in town. They caught me and," she said, leaning against the wall, shaking her head, "strapped, trapped me. I thought I'd never escape. But I've killed a man, I have to get out of here."

I shook my head. Here was what I was afraid of becoming, a lonely, trapped woman unable to hunt and dying of unnatural thirst. Without being on the inside, accepting my new condition and the liabilities that came with it, I was going to be stuck on some beach, hoping to prey on some lost and lonely soul, hoping that I was never caught. It wasn't worth it, and I silently promised I wouldn't let myself be ousted. I was going to have to be the undead predator, even if it meant I'd have to kill to stay in.

"You're the one E told me about. I hunted you down so to find out more about his condition."

"I tried to tell E about that, but he was so furious at me for what I'd made him into he wouldn't listen. A thin blood, from what I've been told, is a vampire whose blood is weaker than most. Rolf, my Sire, told me some vampires consider Thin Bloods a bad omen and want them destroyed. Rolf wasn't a Thin Blood, and apparently I am. I don't know why. Rolf anbandoned me. His clan wouldn't take me in. They said I was a liability.

"He left me with so many questions, and I did the same thing to E, but I didn't want to leave. He forced me out of his life. I should go, I have to get out of here, out of this city, soon."

"You should go see E," I told her, even as she was eying the door. "He forgives you and wants to see you. He was the one who sent me to find you."

"E doesn't hate me anymore," she said, looking back at me, hope coming into her eyes.

"Quite the opposite. You should go talk to him."

"I'll go see him," she said, moving into the door then turning back to see me one last time. "Thank you. What I did, here, please don't tell E. It's not my fault. I couldn't control it. I'm no killer."

"Your welcome," I said, giving her a small smile. "Goodbye."

Lily disappeared through the door, and I started to follow her. I hadn't made it out of the door though before Therese's ghoul stopped me.

"Why'd you have to go and let that bitch out? There's one less Phil in the world now. Now I'll never get to do that bastard in myself. Well, you know what? No blood for you, no more!"

I had it with the ghoul. Letting my strength flow through my arms, I reached forward and grabbed him by the throat, swirled around and buried him to the shoulders in the wall behind me. I could also feel my the shadows swirl around me, and a glance at my arm showed them creeping towards the ghoul. The ghoul in question went slack jawed at my display of strength, and then his eyes followed the shadows creeping up my arm and then his eyes got wide.

"Listen ghoul," I spat at him, letting my anger at Lily's condition show, "I need to get blood from somewhere, and yours is just as good."

"Mistakes are made from time," he coughed. "Without them, some of us might never have been born. Here, have a freebie, my compliments." He pulled a unit of "O Positive" from the pocket of his scrubs and handed it over. I took it with my free hand, then dropped him.

"I'll be back, and next time, the service better be with a smile. Now which way to the Morgue?"

"There's a hole, in the laundry room behind you. Other side is the Morgue."

I didn't even look back, just opened the door and closed it behind me. Once I didn't have the ghoul watching me, I bit into the blood bag. It wasn't quite as good as biting into a neck, kind of tasteless, but it did take the edge off my hunger. How did Kindred survive off these things? They couldn't be cheap, and the tastelessness made me long for the sweetness of a neck to bite into.

I dropped the empty bag into the trash, and entered the morgue. I could see the wall of freezers in a glass walled room, and Crumb was laid out on a bed, apparently just have been autopsied. I went into the morgue, and checked the locker marked for patient effects, to find Crumb's personal items. The paper bag contained a broken watch, a fancy engagement ring, and a key card marked "Foxy Boxes" and his clothes. I took the key card and the ring, the latter to sell if I could find a buyer, and put the bag back.

With a new lead, I could only hope it lead me back to this person who was scaring Knox half-to-death. I headed out the door, tucking the card into my pants and the ring into my bag. They had ramped stairwells to help get the rolling beds down here, and soon I was back up in the clinic and in Malcolm's office. His phonebook was easy found, and I looked up Foxy Boxes, finding it was a warehouse not far from the beach access. Putting the book back, I left the guys office and the clinic and headed for the warehouse.

The warehouse itself was easy found, and once I had a look at the door handle could see where the card key was needed. It was one of those new card lock doors, supposedly more secure as it didn't need keys and had no lock to pick. With the card key, it was easily going through and left me in two offices. The left office was empty, but the right one had a laptop open and powered up. I checked it, finding a list of reports. The guy I was looking for was checking up on the "Cainites" in the area, which I guess meant Kindred. He seemed to catch on to Knox pretty fast, confirming his story, and also knew I was on his tail, and that I was an agent of the Prince. It left no clue as to whom he actually reported it all too, so I shut it down, closed it up, and tucked it and the power cord into my bag. If we were under surveillance, the people in charge needed to know.

He also knew I had found him, and was waiting somewhere for me, probably in the warehouse where he had the ability to snipe me or otherwise trap me. Just great. I pulled my pistol from the bag, and following Brian's instruction, checked the drum once again to make sure it was fully loaded. I tucked that in the back of my jeans, then pulled the knife from my bag. That I kept in my hand, and walked to the door marked "Warehouse." It opened easily enough, and I knelt and looked up to make sure nothing would fall on my head, then from side to side to make sure nothing was there.

It seemed safe enough, so I stepped through. I hadn't made it more than a few steps in, my heels making a nice clicking sound to give me away, when a small Asian man stepped out from behind some crates. He faced me, bowed, then hefted a hand-held crossbow. I ducked behind the nearby crates as a bolt thudded into the wall behind where I had been standing. I reached for the shadows, pulling them over me like a blanket and ran for the next set of crates. I didn't see him, so I snuck around the side, to see him setting a bolt back into his little dart thrower.

I charged at him, burying the knife into his stomach, then with my strength threw him to the ground. The small crossbow clattered from his hands, and I pulled the shadows over him, hoping if he were mortal they'd kill him. The pull on the shadows left me hungry, and I hated that I hadn't made sure to feed before getting into a fight. I picked up his small crossbow with my left hand, as the shadows started to fade over the man, but he wasn't dead. He was crouched, some sort of short katana in hand. He looked at me, with eyes wide from fear, and charged.

I caught the blade on my knife, and let it slide off the end and stabbed it in his arm. His hand went limp, and I left the knife then stepped past him, using a now empty palm to shove him over my leg hooked in behind his to trip him. Spinning around, I tried to reach for his blade, but he somehow slid underneath my hand and knocked the blade away.

I did a quick hand change on the crossbow, as he spun to face me, my knife already gone from his arm, and his short katana in his hand. I pulled the trigger, letting the bolt fly, but he jumped from his crouch and launched himself over twenty feet away. If he weren't intent on killing me, I'd ask how he did that.

I tossed the crossbow, not having a fresh bolt for it, and picked my knife up. The vampire, and I knew it was a vampire, eyed me warily. I didn't know what all he could do, as each clan seemed to do different things, but he seemed to be a warrior type. I didn't have any way of leaping like he did, but I did have shadows.

My enemy made a lunging feint, leaping to my left, and rounding the corner of the crates. I rolled clear even as he started swinging, and summoned my shadows again. I could feel the hunger roll in like a storm, raging inside me, with each boom of thunder a pain of hunger I was finding hard to ignore. The Asian vampire was caught not by a shadow, though, but by a long tendril of solid shadow that wrapped around his leg. He tried using his sword to slice the tendril, but the slice proved too shallow to separate it entirely, and it instantly healed. He had his back turned to me, and I spun the knife in my hand so the blade faced down.

It was a perfect setup, and I lunged forward and buried my knife deep into his neck. The vampire let out a screaming gurgle, and I wrenched the knife sideways in his neck, ripping out the blade through the side. My shadow tentacle had already dissipated, letting the man fall to his knees and dropped the blade so he could grasp his badly injured neck with both hands. I reached down and grabbed the blade, dropping my own knife in its place, and used it to make a quick uppercut on the vampire's neck. The blade was as sharp as its longer cousins, and it sliced clean through the hands and remaining piece of neck.

The vampire immediately crumbled to ash, consuming every easily burned item on him, leaving nothing behind but a pile of ash, with the spare bolts and scabbard for his little katana behind. I picked up my knife, and retrieved the scabbard and extra bolts, stashing all three in my bag. I pulled the gun from behind my back, retrieved the hand-held crossbow and stashed all three in my bag, though it was far from being able to fit everything. I had to pause and resituate everything, and ended up carrying the sword, and the top handle of the crossbow poked out of my bag. No way was I carrying this thing everywhere I went, and the sword would need some kind of overcoat to hide.

I left the warehouse, noting the time on the desk-clock as I passed as a little after two. I hurried back to the apartment, glad it wasn't far and went inside. Brian was sound asleep, so I didn't wake him, and dumped the overstuffed bag under his bed where it would be safe.

I looked at the sword, pulling it from it's scabbard, noticing the foreign lettering on the blade. I had no idea what it meant, but was sure I could find someone later who could tell me what it meant. I knew from my prior experience with the martial arts that swords carried into battle wore adorned with their owner's name. That made this little gem an ID card of sorts, I just had to learn how to read it. At least I had the time over the next few centuries.

I also kept forty dollars from the bag, after stowing the sword under the bed, so I could buy the services of one the girls. After that, I left the apartment and headed back down the stairs and out the door. There was indeed a hooker waiting across the street, and I hurried over to her.

"Hey sweetie, I need some loving," I said, trying to be playful. "I need some loving."

"You got forty baby?" she said between puffs from her cigarette.

"Sure," I said, handing her the money. She stuffed the money in her purse, and we went into the alley behind her. I swear I could hear her heart beat as we walked to the end of the alley, and when we turned the corner and she rolled down her tube top revealing her breasts, I could see the jugular vein throbbing in her neck. I took her in my arms, then bit deep for the jugular. Her blood was like heaven in my mouth, and I kept drawing it into my being. It lasted for a bit, but at last it began to thin and I pulled my fangs out before I took too much, licking the last of the blood from her neck.

I lowered the girl to the ground, then pilfered her purse for her cash, only finding my forty in it. I closed it back up, dropped it beside her and walked away, her blood humming in me. It felt good to be sated, and I headed straight for the diner, so I wouldn't be late. I got there, and took a booth in the back, ordering only water to drink. I sniffed it, and it seemed like a sourness had taken root in it. I put it to my lips, and tried to drink some, and immediately gagged on it. It was sour and bitter in my mouth, and I guess I couldn't stomach even that anymore.

It didn't take five minutes for Sharron to enter. The buxom enhanced bimbo with the dyed blonde hair was easy to spot, she dressed in a form fitting tube top that didn't keep the ladies from jiggling as she walked and drew every guy's eyes. She also had a pair of low cut leather pants that showed off every curve she had, with four inch heels making her hips sway with every step she took. It wasn't hard to see why she thought she could be an actress, but her one mistake, to me at least, was she was heroin chic with a boob job. It just didn't mesh well together.

She spotted me in the corner booth, and came right over, heels clacking on the linoleum tile. Sliding into the booth opposite me, I wondered how best to handle the situation, then decided the best way was to face up to what I was asking.

"Sharron," I said, deciding to introduce myself first. "I'm Eliza Flores. You decided you want in?" I asked, leaning back in my booth and pitching my voice low.

"Yeah, and you look good in what I picked out. What Brian was washing yesterday makes you look kind of...nerd-ish."

"Definitely lacks a certain aesthetic," I agreed. "I'll drop the price for you, but it's still going to be high. It does also last longer than hitting a pipe."

"Brian said it was safer too, that you can't overdose on it."

"True, but I don't know all of its effects. It's still experimental. Brian is one of my test subjects, and I was looking for a third. The cost is in the actual procurement, not in what it takes to make it."

"Experimental? So any side-effects?"

I frowned, knowing I was tap-toeing all around the 'You'll be my slave, forever' part. "Extreme dependance. Like heroin or cocaine, it takes only one hit. Some studies in mice show it to help keep mice from aging, but you have to keep taking it."

I could see her think over that for a bit, so I pressed on. "Also, it's made our mice harder to kill. We don't understand the why yet," I said, bending over to study my glass of water as if I was trying to contemplate the a vast and highly complex problem. When I looked up, I could almost see something in her eyes. Hope maybe? The secret to eternal life?

"You mean your lab might have the cure for aging? Ok, major nerd issues here, but what do you need me and Brian for?"

"Mice can only tell us so much," I lied, trying to think of a plausible reason I'd need human test subjects so soon. "Brian is going to be testing the physical nature side of things. Healing factors and so on. He's in on it free for that as it does still hurt to get beat up. My first test subject is actually displaying better warrior capabilities, using the hard-to-kill nature to increase their endurance and strength."

"The first? Who?"

I shrugged, why not tell her a bit. "Me. I was hoping to make Dennis an offer, farm some of the experiments and profits out, but his flat refusal almost ended my life. I'm not kidding when I say this drug makes you harder to kill. Dennis shot me five times at point blank range to the chest just a few days ago. Pulled the bullets myself, not even a scar."

Her mouth dropped open at that. It was unbelievable, but the truth was in connecting the few dots she'd been given. Dennis's death, Brian having a new boss, a new drug, yeah, she wasn't a complete idiot. "Why did he not like it."

"He wanted the formula to make it himself. Just means he wants to cut me out, which I can't have. He got mad and threatened to use me for shark bait. The long and short is, he's dead and I'm still looking for test subjects. But I'm willing to drop the price back, a lot, to get a few. I just have to add a few things. One, any problems, any whatsoever, you come to Brian. And two, you can never tell anyone you're on this and what it's doing for you."

"Do I still have to hit the eight ball?"

"I don't know. That's one you'll have to figure out. Just be careful about it. Might just make you sick, might just make you jittery. Might even break the hold of it and just leave you dependent on this. That's why I need test subjects."

"So how much?"

"I'll drop it back to five hundred, with the price of the first hit delayed until your second hit, IF you want to hit it again."

"So a thousand in a month? Okay," she said, nodding her head. "When can I get the first hit?"

"Tonight, say seven. Should be back by then," I said, pretending to drink the swill in my glass. Had to keep up appearances, right? "Meet me back at Brian's, and I'll have it ready then."

"Great, I'll see you then," she said, getting up from the booth.

I followed her out, and while she called a nearby taxi, while I headed straight for Asylum across the street. I had one last thing to do before I could do whatever I wanted. Entering Asylum, Knox was still nursing his beer, though his glass was almost empty. I sat at his table, and he looked blearily at me, taking another sip of the amber brew.

"Did you find him?"

I nodded, a smile at my lips. "I got him. Definitely Kindred. Left nothing behind but a pile of ash and his weapons."

"Wow, that guy was really fast!"

"Not fast enough. Caught him in the shadows, and then I showed him who the mistress of all shadows is," I told him, knowing bravado was a sure way of getting dead. Well, dead-er in my case.

"Great," he said, reaching into his jacket and tossing me a small wad of money. "Thanks for helping out. If I see my master, I'll let him know you're looking for him."

I took the money, and stood up. "Thanks Knox. Keep it safe out there, ok. Seems like he was spearheading some kind of invasion. They think Santa Monica is weak, and if that guy wasn't their best, we might be in for some serious trouble."

Knox paled at that, but nodded. He took another long drought of his drink, finishing it. "Think I'll stay here for a bit. Drown the worries."

I let Knox drown his sorrows, and left Asylum. Turning back to the clinic, I needed a fresh set of blood draw kits. I used the Blood Bank entrance, then cut left for the clinic itself. At the T-section, I cut right and found the supply closet at the end. Ducking inside the empty room, I rummaged through the cabinets for two kits, tucking those in my cleavage, and then then four empty tubes to fill joined them.

I didn't stick around. I might have a few hours left before sunrise, but I didn't want to get caught out either. That didn't end too well for Dracula either. I stopped by a newspaper stand, and got a paper on my way out of the clinic. Figured if nothing else I'd look for apartments for rent. Back at the apartment, Brian was just getting out of the shower when I walked in.

"Good, she'll be here at sunset tonight for her fix," I said, fishing the blood kits and tubes out of my cleavage. "I'm giving it to her for free, but she's also been told to come to you if she has problems. Try not to tell her more than she already knows. She also believes it's some kind of new experimental drug. I did tell her about the anti-aging properties, and that she'll be more resistant to dying, but that's about all she knows. Don't tell her it's my my blood okay?"

"Alright. Anything I need to do today?"

"See about a long coat, preferably black leather. Just find out how much it will cost, and shop at several stores, I want to get a good price."

"As you wish, mistress," he said, as he sat on his bed with his magazine. It was a different magazine, the cover having some kind of fish on it. Men and their toys.

I turned the news on, and sat at the end of the bed on the floor to read my paper. I found several places with several bedrooms, most being over a grand a month. I'd also need furniture, and that was just increasing the cost. I also considered using a motel room, but if the cleaning lady found me playing corpse, I'd wake up in the morgue if I was lucky, ash if I wasn't. No, I needed a private place where no unwelcome guests would find my corpse. No, even as the sky brightened on me, I knew I'd have to have a private suite, I just needed to find something affordable, even if my eye kept going to the higher end apartments near Beverly Hills.

Like I'd ever be able to afford that.

I folded my newspaper and placed it on the desk, then went into the bathroom and stripped out of my new clothes. I unfolded my bedroll in the shower stall, and wrapped a towel around me. I took my clothes out and laid them beside the desk then went back into the bathroom and settled into my spot as the sun began to rise. I didn't even fight it, and let myself slide off into sleep.


	10. Chapter 10 - Bad Blood & Sibling Rivalry

Chapter 10 – Bad Blood and Sibling Rivalry

September 28, 2004 = Tuesday

The next night saw me blast straight through my routine. I was actually ready in my usual blah gray clothes, a vial of blood already pulled and waiting when Sharron came through the door. She surprised me, showing up in something resembling reasonable. She wore a blue t-shirt over a pair of skinny jeans, and her heels were only two inches. Her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her makeup was light.

"You got it?" she asked, after Brian had shut the door. I pulled out the vial of blood and handed it to her.

"Just pop the top, and drink. Same stuff that me and Brian are on."

"It, it looks like blood," she said, eying the contents.

"Same stuff I took," Brian said. "That's the best though."

"Okay, then," she said, popping the top. With a quick motion, she downed a dose of my blood. "Hmmm," she purred. "it works so fast."

"Just remember, any problems at all, come back here, and don't tell anyone about taking it," I said, knowing she was enthralled by my blood to do my bidding. "And remember, if you want your next fix, you'll have a thousand for me."

"Yes, ma'am," she said, turning for the door. She had it open and was stepping out, when she turned back. "Anything for you," she breathed, a smile on her lips as she closed the door behind her.

Once the door was closed and I was sure she was gone, I turned to Brian. "How did the hunt for a long coat go?"

"Seems like one hundred fifty will buy a cheap one, though a heavier coat can cost upwards of three hundred. A cheap coat for just keeping the chill off is like fifty."

Reaching under the bed, I pulled out my messenger bag and the short katana-like sword and placed both on the bed. "I kind of wanted a coat long enough to hide this while I wore it," I said, modeling the sword against my back. "Which coat do you think is long enough?"

"I'd go with a leather coat, about knee length. Kind of expensive, but if you want to carry that thing, or a sawed-off shotgun, couldn't get better."

"Give me a few nights to think it over, and to see what's to come," I said, having dumped the bags content on the desk, and slid only the essentials back into the bag. Those essentials being the Astrolite, the thirty-eight, and some ammo. "Hopefully I get to see Tung before the nights over. If it's early enough, I might go ahead and blow that warehouse. So I might not be back for a day or two."

"I'll be here, waiting," he said, kicking back on his bed, and pulling a magazine from under the mattress. It was another Playboy, and I seriously didn't want to know what was in it. Men.

I left the apartment, and walked past the "ladies" on my way to Asylum. I was a little hungry, but their blood lacked any pizazz. Once through the door at Asylum, I checked the bar. No one was hanging around, so I headed over to the elevator and took it to the top floor. I no more got inside the door where Therese sat behind her desk when she sharply stood up and locked eyes with me.

"You, that was MY event at the Gallery! Did you think I wouldn't find out!" she yelled.

"But," I started to say, reaching into my bag, when she cut me off.

"Shut up! I thought I could control my sister as long as Tung was out of the picture, but nothing's changed! I should have expected you'd succumb to Jeanette's wild influence like all the others. But how dare you!" she said, eying my hand as I withdrew it from the bag.

"I didn't do it!" I tried to protest. I had the locket in my hand but Therese was on a full rag.

"Don't lie to me! Jeannette already confessed she tricked you into doing it! But that's still no excuse for your ruining my important celebrity function."

I held out the amulet, trying to sound as meek and persuasive as I could. "I swear I didn't do it. I even brought you the item from the Ocean House."

Therese stalked forward real fast and snatched the locket from my hand, then eyed me. Her eyes were as cold as a snake, and I worried she might have some kind of speed power. I so did not want to get staked again.

"Jeanette claimed you did it for her, but let's say I believe you. After all, you've acted decently and rationally up to now. I imagine you'd still like me to call off the feud?" She eyed me, and I must have said yes by entire body language because she continued on. "There's only one problem. If Tung gets word that I've threatened Jeanette, which he most certainly already has, it's not likely he'll believe me. So, in order to call off the feud, you're going to have to convince Jeanette to forgive me first."

"Couldn't I just kill her?" I tried to ask, then smiled as if I was only making a joke. "I'd be happy to talk to her."

"I've asked her to me at the diner across the street, to reconcile, but I'm busy with the club and other endeavors. I'd like you to go to the diner and promise her that I don't plan to take any action against her. Wait for in the back booth, near the phones."

"I'll go, then the feud is off?"

"Yes, I'll call it off once I've spoken with her myself."

Feeling dismissed, I left her room and took the elevator back to the dance floor and left out the front door. I headed across the street to the Diner and went in. The place was almost empty, the short order cook was cleaning the grill when I walked in. I went to the back booth and sat down, waiting for Jeanette to show up, though with an airhead like that, I might be waiting all night long.

I was just starting to wonder if I should email the Prince to settle Therese's problems when four men walked in. I was just about to dismiss them when the first one through the door raised a shotgun and blasted it towards me. I felt the sting as the buckshot tore at my face and arm, even as I rolled under the table. I could hear more shots ring out, smaller and more like fireworks going off, with small splinters flying around me. Okay, these guys needed a reminder where they stood on the food chain.

In a few seconds, when everyone's gun was empty and being reloaded, I exploded from under the table and charged the thugs. A thug on the right was the first to snap his pistol back together, and the first to find out how strong I was when I grabbed his wrist and shoved it under his chin. Pulling the hammer back with my trigger finger, I mashed the trigger with my thumb and the gun discharged into the man's brain.

Picking the man up with now free hands, I dumped him on the nearest thug. The man with the shotgun had finally finished inserting bullets into his big gun and I reached over and yanked on it, pulling it from his hands before he could even shoulder it. The last thug raised his pistol, and I planted a foot against his ribs, tossing him to the wall. Spinning the shotgun around, I blasted his chest wide open. The thug who I'd dumped the body on, cocked his pistol, and I put a shot directly into his face before getting an awful earache from a thirty-eight which caused me to drop the shotgun in pain and surprise.

I spun on the frightened youth, seeing nothing but red, and charged him. He let fly with the rest of his pistol, the five shots impacting my chest, and I fell on top of him and extended my fangs and bit for his neck. The guy must have been a wrestling champion because he got his arm between us, and flipped me off him. His mistake, was instead of wrestling me, he tried to scramble for the shotgun. I jumped on his back and sank my fangs in, sucking in mouth-fulls of his precious blood. He didn't last long after that, and as soon as his heart faltered I pulled away.

I then picked up the shotgun, which was just in front of me and inspected it. It was too long to carry, and I wiped my prints off with a napkin. The short-order cook was still cowered under the counter, and I stepped into the bathroom to check my wounds. I didn't feel anything missing, and a lack of holes had me confident enough to leave. I was just stepping out of the bathroom when the phone rang. Figuring it might be Therese with news on Jeanette, I answered it.

"Hello?"

"Miss Flores, I'm terribly sorry about that. My sister was furious about your refusal to take part in her designs, so she sent those men to kill you. I'm going to make sure that it never happens again."

"I take it you got the chance to talk to Jeanette, then?" She better, or I was thinking of using that shotgun on her.

"Yes, I did. Drop by, we'll take care of this Tung business."

"On my way," I said, hanging up the phone. Great, now I could down to the really gritty, then as I saw the carnage I had already unleashed on the kill squad. Pitiful, weak humans. I guess I really am the top of the food chain.

I left the diner just in time to hear sirens approaching, and scurried across the street to Asylum when a cop car slid to a stop in front of the diner. I didn't wait around, in case anyone saw me and headed inside and took the elevator to Therese's room. I walked in, to see Therese holding a pistol on the wall. Though when she looked at me, yeah, I wondered why I didn't see it before. Asylum, as in Insane Asylum.

Half of her face was the professional businesswoman I was trying to work with. But the other half was the makeup clad face of Jeanette, including her ponytail. Twin sisters, both of the same clan, no way to tell them apart. No wonder no one saw it.

"You," Therese said, locking eyes with me, gun swinging in my direction. "I'll deal with you in a moment. Now, I'm going to make sure she never crosses me again."

"Don't listen to her! She'll kill us both! Save me and I'll help you find Bertram I swear!"

"Shut up, Jeannette! I warned you to stay away from Tung. He's turned you against me! I always looked out for you! But you couldn't stand my success, you had to meddle, didn't you? I didn't want it to end like this but you forced me!"

"You never gave me credit for anything, Therese! I was the one calling the shots! Bertram was dancing on my leash!"

They eyed me, and I honestly didn't know who to support in this insane fight. If both knew where Tung was, I could support either one. I guess the biggest question was, which side did I trust more? I needed more information on these two nuts.

"Why are you both fighting?" It was a simple question, and one I needed an answer to.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm about to rid the night of this deviant, backstabbing whore! Do you realize that, despite her condition, she still," Therese paused, face screwed up in disgust, "fornicates! With Kine, no less!"

Kine? Must be humans. They did seem to have their own weird words for everything. But we could still do it? Damn, I'm missing out.

"You're one to talk, dear sister," Jeanette's high voice said. "Or should I say Daddy's little girl? Do you want to know just how depraved the Baron of Santa Monica can be?"

Therese's deeper voice then shouted, "Shut up, Jeanette!"

"You'd love the world to think you're a saint, when you thought I was asleep, I used to hear father come in at night. I heard him whisper in your ear before he..."

Therese's deeper voice shouted again, "Don't finish that sentence or you're dead!"

"Both of you stop!" I shouted at them. Yeesh, no wonder she was crazy. Who knew how long she'd been molested.

"Don't you want to hear what happened?" Jeanette asked. "How she became the pillar of the community she is today?"

"Stop it right now," I commanded, as Therese began to point the gun towards her head, while the other arm held it off. "Both of you."

"Don't try and stop me," Therese said, as she struggled with her other half. "I've had to overlook her treachery, her seduction," then shook her head, "relations, with my enemies and the consequences of it. But I won't endure her any longer."

"Endure me?" Jeannette asked, hurt in her voice. "You've done everything you could to smother me. You'd love to bury me in your closet, along with all your other skeletons."

"I'm the good girl," Therese said, exerting herself to overpower her other half. You'd think she would have done it by now, but maybe she was left handed. "You're the wicked one. You've done nothing but plot against me when I had our best interests at heart. And despite that, I've always covered up your mistakes. I've taken care of you. And this is how you repay me?"

"Taken care of me?" Jeannette said, disbelieving. "You've done nothing but keep me down, blamed me for every mistake. Did you expect me to let you rule my life until the end of time? No, sister, you've had it coming since our last sunrise."

"Is that right, dear?" Therese mocked. "If it wasn't for me, you would never survived this long. Remember? They tried to seperate us, but I refused. I chose this life and I brought you into it so that we could stay together. Obviously, you've forgotten."

I needed to get a handle on this, and like now. "If you both want to continue to exist, you're going to have to live with each other." Okay, it sounded lame, but it was getting their attention.

"She's a control freak!" Jeannette said. "People, things, emotions. And if she can't control something, she gets rid of it."

"And you're a wild animal. You'll rub up anything that'll take you in for the night. Then, when you're stuffed and bored, you bite the hand that fed you."

"Both of you have been working against each other. Together, you'd be a power."

"I don't think that's possible," Therese said, kind of quiet. "How could I ever think to trust her again?"

"Trust me?" Jeannette said, surprise in her voice. "Who could trust you after what happened with Father dearest?"

"Father loved me. I was a good girl," Therese said, hurt over Jeanette's words. "I always did what I was told. You always hated that he loved me. You disobeyed him. You brought men home when he wasn't there. You were an awful daughter to him."

Wow, no wonder these two hated each other with a passion. "That's in the past," I said, trying to persuade the two from letting blood flow. I so didn't need the Prince's ire from all this drama. "Forget about it."

"How can I forget that Therese killed father with the shotgun after catching him in bed with me? Blew his mind all over the silly clown wallpaper."

"That's a lie, Therese said rather quickly. "Father killed himself because of Jeannette. She made him miserable."

"As I recall," Jeannette said, smiling a bit at the memory, "he died with a smile on his face."

"Forget about the past, you two need each other to move on," I said, trying to be the sage of wisdom. Right now, I really wished I'd brought the shotgun.

"Why?" Therese demanded, pulling the pistol away from Jeannette's hand. At least I think it was Jeannette's. "How will this time be any different?"

"Think of how powerful you could both be if you worked together," I said, hoping they bought it and inching my hand into my bag for my knife.

"Therese doesn't like to share," Jeannette pointed out.

"Jeannette's irresponsible," Therese countered. "She's undependable. A venture like mine requires class and distinction, which is something a pig-tailed, face-painting harlot does not lend very well."

"You do have a way with words, sister," Jeannette said in what I though was mock sincerity. "You're right, I'm not in the same class, am I? I mean, murderers are so respectful these days." Okay, that last part was just pure sarcasm.

"Therese, let Jeannette have more responsibility."

"More responsibility?" Therese nearly shrieked. "So that she can ruin every opportunity I give her?"

"Of course," Jeannette mocked. "You're the only one who can secure zoning permits and shake hands. I'd never be able to keep up!"

"Jeannette, stop sabotaging your sister's plans."

"But I only do it out of love," she pouted.

"You do it because you're vindictive and jealous," Therese spat.

"And you deserve it!" Jeannette shouted back.

"If you call a truce and run this place equally, there's no need to kill each other," I said, trying to keep calm even though I had my hand wrapped around a knife.

"If she would stop treating me like a child!" Jeannette yelled.

"If you would start behaving like a rational adult!" Therese yelled back.

Okay, almost there. Now we need some common ground. "You must have gotten along at one time, right?"

"Yes," Jeanette said, almost in a whisper. "There was a time."

"When I was a child," Therese started, almost in the same whisper. "I didn't have many friends. I suppose Jeannette was the only one. We never did get to go out of the house much. Father wouldn't allow us."

"He said we'd get hurt," Jeannette's slight higher whisper told me. "So we stayed together inside and we imagined our own worlds. And we spent so much time there, together, ruling over those places those were..."

"Happier times," Therese's deeper whisper finished. "Before we grew apart."

I swear, it was like listening to a bad ventriloquist act. "You don't really want to kill each other, do you?"

"I never did," Jeanette said.

"No, I guess I don't," Therese said. "Jeanette, if I were to give, offer, you equal control in Santa Monica, would you quit consorting with Tung?"

"I'll stop working against you with him," Jeannette said, "But since I've got him in my pocket already, there's no reason for me not to pay him a visit once in a while, when he can be of use."

"That's not a bad plan," Therese said. "There's just one more thing. I want to be in charge of Santa Monica, but only pubicly. I want you to continue to convince others that are relations are strained. That way..."

"We know who our enemies are," Jeannette finished. "I agree."

"Give me the gun, Therese," I asked.

"Here, take it," Therese said, giving me the pistol.

"Tung's hiding out in an abandoned oil tank at the old gas station," Jeannette said. I'll tell him to expect a visitor and be extra nice."

"Thanks," I told them, heading for the door.

"And keep your tongue tied tight about what happened tonight," Jeannette called to me.

"Or we'll have to kill you," Therese finished.

I smiled, with my back turned to them. They had to say something. Well, they might be older, but if all they could do was run a club, maybe they needed a lesson. I pulled on the shadows, drawing them to me like a mother to her children, and watched their faces falter from smug satisfaction to horror. I pulled the darkness over every source of light, until they were barely visible, then my Shadow sight kicked in. I could see they were horrified at the shadows surrounding them, so I opened the door and let them see me, even as I darkened the light there too.

"Kill me? I'm not four days old, and already done more than either of you seem capable of. Want to kill me? Come join me in the shadows and I'll show you a party," I threatened, then walked out, letting the shadows fade back to the room. I hated bullies, but now, I guess I was one of the bigger bullies in town. What could they do anyway? Party hearty?


	11. Chapter 11 - Demolition Party

Chapter 11 – Demolition Party

September 28, 2004 = Tuesday

It didn't take long to find the gas station they mentioned. It had a chain link fence around the place, but the gate was unlocked. I opened the gate up, and walked in, finding the large, rusted out tank behind the building. The guy inside? Well, maybe losing my reflection wasn't so bad. He was hideous, and I mean beaten to death by the ugly tree and risen again as a Kindred. His head was rather bulbous, as if it had grown several large cysts, and the rest of his face was rather angular and sunken; like a starving cro-magnon man with those ridges over eyes and sunken cheeks.

"Tung? I presume," I said, stepping through the rusted out hole into the Kindred's living space.

"One and only," he said in a rather deep and gravelly voice. "No need to introduce yourself, Miss Flores. I know who you are. News travels down the Kindred grape vine like wildfire. And that courtroom spat between Lacroix and Rodriguez is a juicy morsel, with you in the middle. How interesting."

"Great, so you can get me into that warehouse?"

"I've been watching the place. The Sabbat has a bunch of lowlife humans working day and night to move stuff through there. There's some major staging going on since Simeon died."

"Just humans?"

"As far as I can tell. The humans seem to know the score from the way they've been talking. I think most of them have aspirations of joining the next graduating class of shovelheads. Losers."

"Shovelheads?" That was a new one.

"Typical Sabbat-style vampire. The Sabbat usually sire en masse, drop everyone into a hole and bury them. When they wake up, they are so frightened and scared they frenzy. Most don't survive long, so if you see one just put 'em down. You're doing them a favor. Half the time, they don't even get fully turned before they're turning more; results in a lot of thin bloods."

"So the humans know they're working for Kindred?"

"Yes. The Sabbat like everyone to know just who they're dealing with. So if you get in there and have to bust a few heads, don't feel bad. Think of it as 'upholding the Masquerade."

"So, got a car around here?" That must've been funny to him, because he started laughing really hard as he moved a mattress to reveal a trapdoor with one of those shiny metal ladders people buy to get up on top of their house to work.

"We Nosferatu don't have any use for cars. We use the sewers to get around. And before you fret your pretty little head. It's not like the slop you trudged through to get out to Ocean House. These lines are older, and no longer in use. You'll stay pretty, don't worry."

"Great," I said, as he began climbing down the metal ladder into the darkness. The darkness itself didn't bother me, so much as the smell and ruining another set of clothes. Oh well, guess the shirt wasn't going to last anyway with some more bullet holes in it. Least I wasn't going to ruin a third shirt in this fight. I followed him down, finding myself in a well-lit tunnel. He then began leading me down it, towards the warehouse, hopefully.

"So, ever met a Lasombra before?" I asked, more to just pass the time.

"Nope. We've kept the Sabbat out for years. It wasn't until recently they've even had the chance. We've been at war with the Kue-Jin for the better part of the last century."

""Kue-Jin?"

"That vampire you dusted for Knox, he was a Kue-Jin. A scout," Tung told me.

I remembered the laptop I had taken from the Kue-Jin's warehouse and pulled it from my bag. "Took this from the warehouse I killed the scout at. Has his reports to someone on it."

"Thanks for getting that laptop. It can reveal a lot of secrets for us."

"Glad to be of help. So can we all move that fast?"

"Don't I wish. Guess no one had told you about the different clans and what we can do."

"No, been meaning to ask someone. So what about the others? What other clans are in town."

"A lot of Kindred in Los Angeles are Brujah. They're a bunch of malcontents. They get pumped up by rousing the rabble they keep around them, like that's hard. Nothing breeds faster than contempt, and that's what the Brujah are all about. Jealousy and contempt.

"The Gangrel fancy themselves loners and drifters, running the countryside and barking at them moon. Gangrel can walk upright but choose not too.

"Malkavians are, interesting. Like Jeannette, there's something to them. Learning to sort the wisdom from the bullshit can be some work and not all of them are worth listening to, but they are all good fun if you ask me."

"Is Therese all good fun?"

"That was silly vampire politicking cupcake, no more. You get used to that kind of thing."

"Did you know she and Jeanette are the same person?"

"Uh," he started to say, struggling to find a way of digging himself out of the verbal hole he had made for himself, "I had my suspicions. What an interesting specimen, but a pain in my dead ass for sure."

"What about your clan, the Nosferatu," I asked, not wanting to pry but desperately needing information.

"The Nosferatu are damn good at what we do, no one even argues that. If you need to know, if you want it found, you come to us. We're indispensable. Not a bad place to be in the afterlife."

"Lucky you."

"The Nosferatu stick together and pool resources. We have more going on than anyone could guess at. Our web blankets the night.

"Then you have the Toreadors. I don't rub elbows with the pretty bloodsuckers much, but I've seen them work people like puppeteers and that's admirable. Now if they would get off their slimy asses and put their talent to some use besides feeding their egos.

"Next you have the Tremere. Mages, all of them. I don't have any reason to trust them. They're creepy and I think they like it that way. But to be honest, I don't hear much about the Tremere. There's a few in town, but all in all there's not that many of them.

"The last clan in the Camarilla are the Ventrue. They get a bad rap if you ask me. Everyone likes to take shots at the man in charge but when it comes to getting the job done the Ventrue know how to step up. They can take the heat.

"And now there's you. A Lasombra. A few Lasombra broke out of the Sabbat a while back and joined the Camarilla, but they were mostly hunted down by their own clan. A few survive, but mostly, they turn back to their clan. It's going to be interesting to see where you'll go. Or if you even survive."

We continued on in silence for awhile. Mostly because I wasn't interested in talking. My own clan would hunt me down? Just effing great. I wasn't even sure what all I could do, and those that knew how their shadow powers worked would come to kill me. Well, first they had to know I existed. That might take a few months. Hopefully.

Too soon we arrived at the end of the tunnel, and I was shaken out of my thoughts about dying a second time. We had reached some sort room, and Tung had stopped.

"Around the corner, duck through the tunnel, up through the floor to the door. It'll put you behind most of their security. Warehouse is on the other side of the train yard. Get inside, find the second floor offices at the center, then find a place to stash it. Get as close to the center as you can, that bomb you're carrying will ignite the ANFO and C4 they store under the center offices."

"Great, then run right?"

"Right back here," Tung said, leaning against a wall. "I'll be waiting."

I nodded to him, then turned the corner and started heading forward. It led to a sharp incline, where I had to duck to crawl through the last of the hole, coming out in a collapsed floor in a small room. I walked up the door, cracked it open to find myself looking at a Sabbat thug. A quick battle raged through my mind. To kill him, or sneak by him. Well, too much risk, and I was so outnumbered

I knelt down, and crept up behind him. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was doing. With his hands in front of him at the urinal, and a telltale steady stream as a dead giveaway, yeah, not hard at all. I hadn't had a chance to actually feed yet, so I slowly stood, waiting for him to finish. The moment he started to zip up, I yanked his head to the side and sank my teeth into his neck. The taste of his blood was sweet and I fed until after it had thinned out. With the thug now dead, I let him fall.

Walking out to the other door, I cracked it and checked it. There wasn't anyone in the room that I could tell, so I slowly walked into it. Without anyone around, I walked through the room and checked the far door. There was a door nearby, half blocked by a desk, with another thug at the far end. So I crept up behind him. He didn't even notice me as he puffed on his cigarette. I pulled out my knife, as he took a puff, then I stood and yanked his head back, burying the blade into his chest. The thug then fell, as my blade had found his heart and I dropped him. Yanking my knife out, I cleaned it on his hoodie before turning back to the room..

Moving back through the room, I checked the other door, finding it locked. I pulled my lockpicks, unlocked the door, then cracked it. All I could find was an elderly man in tattered clothes warming himself by a fire. I didn't know how a bum got this deep into a heavily secured area, except that he was some type of guard or wannabe. I inched out the door, knife in hand, and before he ever saw me, buried the blade in his back. He barely let out a gurgle before he collapsed and I cleaned the blood off on his own clothes.

I looked around the train yard, I guess finally seeing it for the first time up close. I'd seen these yards before, but never thought I'd be in one. Box cars were lined up on rusty tracks, some were hitched up, some weren't and had gaps between them. The box cars were mostly sealed, so I couldn't go through them, and most were so low, I didn't try to sneak under because that meant I'd get dirty.

I crept through the first row, turned the corner to find two guards talking to each other. Thinking fast, I turned the shadows loose on the one facing towards me, then dashed forward and buried my knifed in other before he could shout. My shadows over the other thug soon dissipated, showing me he had died in horror. Taking my knife and leaving the corpses behind, I continued on, finding one more guard walking away on his patrol. I left him, not wanting to chance him getting wise to my presence, and continued on. The two remaining rows of box cars had no guards around them, and I found myself looking at an old steam locomotive. A thug was leaned up against it, smoking a cigarette, and I pulled on the shadows again, thinking of the tentacle I had made against the Kue-Jin vampire, and created a six foot long tentacle that wrapped around and strangled him.

Looking at a nearby access ladder, I climbed it into the roof of the garage building, and started to crawl through the access to the warehouse itself. I came out on the beams that made up the warehouse roof. I looked down to see a bunch of people unpacking crates, revealing all kinds of weapons. Burt Gummer would be envious. I didn't recognize all the different kinds, but I knew several were strictly military, looking like M16 from all those war movies, and those big Rambo guns. They also had tubes I knew had to be Bazookas, and didn't that make me all warm and fuzzy.

Some crates they unpacked revealed gray bars with a center wrapping. These crates were taken into another room. I looked around, not wanting to drop in on all the humans with the heavy weaponry, and saw that there may be a path across the beams and around the cooling ducts by just staying above the bright lights. I started over the beams, picking my way carefully around every obstacle I encountered. On the other side, I found my way deeper into the warehouse, only to see more crates being unloaded. I didn't really know much about the Sabbat, but the guy that was running things now, this Andrei, was preparing for a full-out war.

I kept on going, but the beams stopped at a brick wall. With nowhere else to go, I was forced to stop and evaluate my position. The second floor offices were just twenty or thirty feet away, and I was over an empty catwalk. It was bright below, and I felt a twinge of anxiety about being in the light like that, but over by the door was a lot of shadow for me to hide in. I looked around, no one was paying any attention to the catwalk above them, so I dropped down to it and sprinted to the end and disappeared back into the shadow.

At the door, I paused a moment to watch for signs of anyone seeing me, but nobody had. I pulled my lockpicks and opened the door, entering just as the water tank gurgled. I quickly closed the door and hid behind a nearby desk, and remained there as I heard someone walk in. It wasn't until his footsteps left the room, that I dug the Astrolite out of my bag. I set the timer for as long as I could which was only three minutes, and left it under the desk. They wouldn't find it there unless they were looking.

With time wasting, I ran to the far door, already pulling the shadows around me as I ran. The next room had two guys in it. They looked at me in astonishment for a second, then pulled guns. I took the moment while they were stunned to slash the throat of one, the other actually managed to get the gun out of his pants before I got to him. I used my greater strength to shove him into the wall, knocking him senseless, then biting into his throat to slake my thirst.

With that one dead, I pulled the shadows over me, like a blanket, opened the door and sprinted down the steps to the rear exit. I was either really lucky, or my shadows concealed every last inch of me, because not one alarm was raised. I felt better in the shadows, and the guy leaned up against the corner of the building never got a chance to scream before my knife was buried in his back. Some security they had. I didn't even take the knife with me this time as I continued to sprint to safety.

I found myself in some kind of unloading area, a box trailer backed up to the warehouse. Nobody was in sight so I sprinted to the fence, back towards the building I came from. The chain link fence that ran between the two buildings was easily ripped apart. I was starting to like being Kindred, and continued my mad dash. I didn't see anyone, and soon I was rounding the last boxcar to the building.

I never actually heard the explosion. I felt it though. It picked me up and threw me into the building in front of me with all kinds of debris around me. I looked back to see that the warehouse was gone. Even the boxcars were reduced to piles of wood and metal.

A howl rang long and loud, and I saw a large white wolf bounding off the top of the boxcar to run right up to me. I was still stunned from the explosion, and slow to react. Thankfully, wolfie wasn't gunning for my throat, but stopped. He then kicked off his front paws to stand on his rear legs, then morphed into a trench-coat wearing Kindred. He was tall, a good six feet, with long dark hair and glasses. Except for the trench-coat, he kinda dressed like Indiana Jones.

"The warehouse," he drawled, "You're handiwork, I presume?"

"What the?" I started, startled by his shape-shifting. "Are you a werewolf?"

He snortled at that. "Not experienced much in the creatures of the night, are you? For future reference, you might keep in mind that werewolves aren't in the habit of introducing themselves."

Okay, that's what Bertram meant when he said Gangrel could walk upright but chose not too. They transformed into wolves. "Neat trick mister?" I prompted, hoping he was at least somewhat sociable.

"I see my reputation for once does not precede me. My name is Beckett. Sorry if I unnerved you."

"After dealing with the local Malkavian, that's going to take some doing."

"Tell me, Miss Flores, have you by chance seen or felt anything strange since your embrace?"

"Saw a ghost. She helped me free her from her murderous husband."

"Quite ordinary. I generally pay wraiths no mind. All but a few are willing to give up their secrets."

"Really haven't seen anything out of the ordinary. Though I have felt like there's something under my skin."

"That would be your Beast. Try to keep a tight lid on it, it can be quite unfortunate for you if it were to be let out for any reason."

"Found out the hard way about losing control, but thanks for the information," I told him. "So, that all that brings you out here? Couldn't have been easy getting past all the guards."

"Most of my contacts here report something unusual in the night air, like a sense of dread or pressure. I'm not a native to these parts, so I can't tell if it's irregular, and since you're still fresh, perhaps you're not attuned to it."

"Guess not," I said, as Beckett looked quickly around. I didn't see anything, but if he still had his wolf senses, he might smell a guy coming.

"Pleasure making your acquaintance, but there are rumblings for me to discredit. We shall, I'm certain, meet again. Or never again. Goodnight, young one, and be careful. You're likely being hunted by the Sabbat."

"Night, Beckett," I said, then watched as he morphed back into the wolf. With a howl, he leaped to the top of a nearby debris pile and disappeared in another bound. I didn't want waste any time making myself scarce. I went back inside the ruined building, finding the hole nearly blocked by rubble. I squeezed back through the hole, then used my Potence ability to tear the blocks around the tiny hole out, letting it all fall in. With the way blocked, the Sabbat wouldn't be hunting me that way.

Now, to meet Prince Lacroix and pay off this boon.


	12. Chapter 12 - Sabbat Intercept

Chapter 12 – Sabbat Intercept

September 28, 2004 = Tuesday

The walk back to Bertram's tank was quiet. He didn't say much, except to congratulate me on a successful attack. My only thoughts settled decisively on my upcoming meeting with Lacroix. My first and only direct contact with him was when he was going to behead me, then again by email when I secured the werewolf blood before it could be tested. I still hadn't heard back from him. Had I done something wrong?

At Bertram's, we climbed the ladder to find Brian waiting on us with a bag in hand.

"Miss Flores," he said, handing me the bag. "You've been requested downtown."

I bet. I took the bag, finding the clothes that Sharron had bought me. I glanced around Bertram's makeshift home, and after finding no place to hide while I changed, glanced at Bertram.

"You've got nothing I want, Fledgling," Bertram said, his face as stoic as ever. I looked back around the makeshift home, finally deciding that the only place for privacy would be back down in the tunnel. I lowered myself back down to the ladder, climbing with the bag hanging on an arm. Back down in the tunnel, I stripped off my clothes off, and put on the skinny jeans and halter top that Sharron had sent me. The motorcycle boots made me feel more butch than I wanted to display, but they were a class better than the cheap things I got from Simeon. I really needed to buy a better grade of shoe.

Once dressed, I put my near ruined clothes in the bag, hung the bag back on my arm, and climbed back up to the tank. Brian was still waiting for me, but Bertram was sitting to a computer, not paying any attention to me. I handed my bags off to Brian, then led him out to the gate. A limo was waiting for me, a uniformed chauffeur waiting by the passenger door. Upon seeing me, he opened the door.

"Brian, get with Sharron tomorrow and have her pick out some more clothes. Use the money in my bag to pay for anything she finds. Try to steer her into something with a little more class. Alright?"

Brian nodded, and I sat myself into the plush leather seat of the limo. The driver closed the door behind me, and I couldn't help but shudder at the sensation of finality. In moments, the driver had circled around and was at the wheel, driving me to my destination.

The ride itself was boring, as I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts to enjoy it. I didn't really take notice of where we were until it was too late. The sound of screeching metal woke me out of my reverie, then everything went bottoms up as it rolled. Once the limo ground to a stop, I used my Potence ability to rip the door free and rolled out.

Facing me, about twenty feet away, were three men, their clothes as rough as their faces. The one on the right held a large weapon, which I guess was some kind of grenade launcher. Just effing great. The three then rushed me, with one dropping to his front hands to run like an animal on his elongated arms. I turned and sprinted down the road, glad for once I wasn't in high heels as they would have kept me pinned.

I still didn't make it more than a dozen steps before I was tackled by the hand running one. I let the strength flow through my arms as I fought back, trying to get away but my grip of iron was overpowered by his, shocking me. Just how strong could we get? With hand boy fighting me, his stronger Potence ability overpowering mine, he forced me flat. The others quickly ringed us, the one on top of me shifted to my left, while another held me on the right. Any hope of escape left me. They didn't know it was me that blew up the warehouse, right?

"Let's drain her," the one on my right said.

"Let's stake it and leave her for the sunrise,' the one on my left offered.

The last one knelt over me, almost sitting on my stomach. "We're going to have a lot of fun with this one. Think you could blow up our warehouse and get with it?" he shouted into my face. "Huh, Lick?"

I briefly thought about trying to overpower these guys again, but then a new thought hit me. Potence wasn't my only Dark Gift. I smiled, then yanked on the shadows. I tried to use the shadows to make a group of tentacles, but it fell apart before it could form. Just great. Not only am I about to die, but my powers decide to quit working so epically that these three stiffs don't even notice my

"Let's pull out her eyes and her tongue and her teeth," long arms said from my left.

"I want her teeth," the one said as he leaned forward to get right in my face. I frantically began to wonder what happens to a Kindred who had their fangs pulled when a gunshot rang out. The Sabbat sitting on my stomach was suddenly gone, and I could hear him sputter. I found him at my feet, nursing a bleeding head. The other two vampires looked to someone behind me, and they were worried. I didn't know who had joined the fight, but he was enough to worry the Sabbat holding me down.

"Leave," a very strong, male voice said. The power on it had them nervous and I wondered who could make three Sabbat Kindred that nervous.

"There's three of us, Rodriguez," the one who had been shot declared, rising to stand in defiance. "What are you going to do? Shoot us?"

I didn't get to see the response but the Sabbat guys backed up, releasing my arms. I rolled free to see the brawler guy from my Trial, the one who made the Prince rethink my execution. On his belt was a grenade, and I guess that was what made them nervous. Made me nervous too, thinking about how deadly I'd heard they could be. The Sabbat were slinking away, but the one who had been shot decided to get one last parting word in.

"This ain't over! We'll find you, Flores. You too, Rodriguez. No one messes with the Sabbat and lives!"

Rodriguez held his ground, finally lowering it once the last one had slunk into the shadows. I went over to thank him, while Rodriguez locked eyes with me. I was just about to speak when he brought his gun up real fast, and I barely had time to register that the leader of the pack had just got caught trying to jump him while his guard was down, but he just pulled the trigger. Rodriguez shook his head as the Sabbat vampire crumbled into ash, and then he eyed me again.

"Trouble sure seems to like you. Name's Nines." He had a rich, deep voice that resonated within me.

"Eliza Flores. Thanks for the help."

"Should've been more careful, newbie. This ain't the burbs."

"I'll remember that. Didn't think they'd be on to me so fast. I just blew up their warehouse a few hours ago."

Nines looked around, then at the cheep plastic watch on his wrist. "You do that, kid. I got things to deal with. Why don't you pay me a visit tomorrow night at the Last Round. I don't know what you heard so far, but it's time you heard the real story about the Camarilla. This is a mean existence. Stay out of trouble, kid."

"I'll see you there," I said as I watched him start at a jog, then disappear as he ran faster than my eye could follow to look like a blur. Wow, Brujah, least I think he was Brujah from Tung's earlier statement about pumping up the rabble, sure seemed to match.

Looking at the twisted wreck that was the limo, I figured I needed a cab. Damn Sabbat, anyway.


	13. Chapter 13 - The Prince

Chapter 13 – Meeting with the Prince

September 28, 2004 = Tuesday

I was riding in the back of the cab when we got to Lacroix Tower. I had the driver pull off to the side in a darkened area and got out. I actually felt bad for what I was about to do, but I had no money since I left it all with Brian. Stupid of me, really.

"Hey, miss!" the driver called as I passed the front of his car. "That's ten-fifty you owe me!"

I stopped, as if I were thinking. In truth I was, just not about paying. My patience was awarded when the guy stepped out of his cab, and started to come up behind me. I turned, slowly so as not to startle him and let him approach. I knew I had a faint smile on my lips as the fool stopped and held out his hand. With one swift motion, I hit him in the stomach with an open palm, then shoved the windless sap back onto the hood of his cab. With no thrill like that of hunting, I descended on his neck and fed, long and deep. I was careful not to take too much, but left the cabbie slouched beside his car.

Walking towards the front door, I wondered how many people might be inside. I mean, it was supposed to be the headquarters of the Prince of the local Kindred. Had to be somebody home right? Inside, at the front desk was Chunky butt. Small world. Well, at least it shouldn't prove too hard to get past him. He noticed me as I walked through the glass door, his mouth falling open in awe.

"Snack cake? What are you doing here?"

I shook my head. What were the odds? "Mind buzzing me up moon pie?"

"I'd love to, uh, buzz you up, but according to building security protocol nine-one-six, I'm going to have to verify you're supposed to be here before I can open the elevator."

"I'm here to see Lacroix."

"Sebastian Lacroix of the Lacroix Foundation, or Dwayne Lacroix of Insurrection Baby Formula Company?"

"Sebastian Lacroix. I have a report for him."

"Oh, okay then. Go right on up to the top, he's expecting you."

"Thanks," I said, and headed around his desk to the elevators. I didn't need any drama right now. The elevator door was already called, and the door was open by the time I got there. I stepped inside and hit the button marked "PH," hoping it would take me to the right floor. The doors closed and a quick ride later I was greeted by Scourge Walsh. At least he was looking good.

"Miss Flores, nice to see you again. I trust Santa Monica was friendly enough?"

"Well," I said, not wanting to sound like a whiner. "They didn't kill me when they saw me, but they sure do like trying to make me do everything for them."

He chuckled softly at that, then gestured for me to proceed. Across the lobby was another set of elevator doors, this time flanked by two men in full tactical gear carrying large assault rifles. "Just a little security," he said, as we passed between them to the waiting elevator. "This elevator will take us straight to the top, where Prince Lacroix awaits your report on the Sabbat Warehouse attack."

"Don't know why. I came, I saw, I killed, then I blew it up," I explained dryly. "The only real 'fun' part was that your limo was destroyed when they caught me on my way here."

The doors closed and he hit the top-most button. We began to ascend, then he turned to face me. "Yes, we are aware of the destruction of the limo. Local police were informed it was a terrorist hit. They believe it to be such. Luckily, Mister Rodriguez was able to save you from the Sabbat pack."

"I'm not used to what I can do yet, and that one has a stronger Potence ability than I do. I'm not sure how to fight Kindred like that."

"Blades work best, and the cuts they inflict take much longer to heal. Fire also has a similar effect, and can be used to create obstacles if you're trying to flee."

"Fire? So in addition to becoming something akin to a monster, we've become like animals in that we hate fire."

"It's the Beast in us. A wild animal that you will carry with you for the rest of your nights. The Gangrel can explain it better, if you can find one. I'm not saying you'll always be blocked by fire, you can overcome the fear associated with it same as you could before, but a single fire can make you stop an attack, or stop an attacker."

"Thanks for the update," I said, as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. The doors opened to a small room, where two more men in tactical gear stood guarding a door. This door was different though, the white wood polished to a high shine. The door was also embossed with gold, though I was sure it was only gold plated. Still, a classy door. And only someone who felt entitled, and high brow would have a door like that.

The Prince.

I'm pretty sure my heart took a swan dive to hide in my ankle. The Scourge waited by the elevator, and I reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside. The Prince sat at a large wooden desk, the Sheriff on his right and behind him, that big sword he used to kill my Sire plainly visible. I was so glad that Mister Rodriguez had stopped them from killing me too.

"There you are. I was informed of your presence in the building," he said, his tone and body language dismissive, though his eyes were locked on me. "Since you're here, I'll take the liberty of assuming you've destroyed the warehouse. This is correct, yes?"

"Yes, that is…." I started to say when he cut me off.

"Most excellent. I had no doubt you'd prove my decision a prudent one. I trust you encountered no impediments to your progress on account of my personnel?"

My thoughts went to Mercurio, figuring this was his master, and decided I liked the ghoul. "None whatsoever," I lied.

"You've done well, circumstances being what they were. I will admit, not many in your position would have overcome such a trial. But don't misunderstand me, it was no fool's errand."

I shuffled a little, not sure if I should be glad or mad at his remarks. The man was being carefully neutral. Just trying to be a good leader, I guess, so I decided to play along with what he had in mind until he called our debt good. Which should be any second now.

"You may yet prove to be a genuine asset. It's disturbing, the lack of talent within this organization as of late. Tell me, what would you say to doing a bit of reconnaissance for me?"

As if I could say no? "I guess," I said to him. "What exactly do I have to do?"

"There's been whispers, rumors spreading around the Kindred community concerning the Elizabeth Dane, the cargo ship being towed into port today. Have you heard of it?"

"No, I don't have a habit of watching the news."

"The Dane was found out at sea. The early reports say it was without crew, but they have yet to report a fate of said crew. The police are investigating the Dane as we speak, but even the Nosferatu have little information on what's been found. However, the reason the ship has caused such speculation is because it was transporting an object called the Ankaran Sarcophagus.

"Now, I'm not one to predicate a decision based on conjecture, so what I need is fact, and more importantly, I need evidence that the occurrences on the Dane were not supernatural in nature, and in no relate to this Ankaran Sarcophagus."

Was there a job in that mess anywhere? "What do you need me to do?" I just wanted to make sure what I was needed to do.

"You have three objectives. One, I want you to examine the Sarcophagus for anything unusual. You may sense something peculiar about it, in fact, many Kindred in the city have reported an uneasiness in the air since news of the Dane was due to arrive today. Do not, under any circumstances, open the Ankaran Sarcophagus. Secondly, the police will have begun their investigation. Find out what they have concluded thus far. Thirdly, take the cargo manifest for the ship. I want to find out what else it was carrying.

"The last thing we want are the authorities aware of our existence, so be careful what you do in front of them. And unlike the warehouse, you cannot wholesale slaughter a ship full of lawmen without consequences. Is this understood?"

"Yes," I said, glad I'd not have to fight this time unless it was necessary.

"Good. It has come to my attention that you had an encounter with Nines Rodriguez earlier. The man so does love to throw that cretinous charm of his brashly about. What exactly did Mister Rodriguez say?"

"He asked me to visit him at the Last Round tomorrow night."

He smiled, and I barely suppressed the shiver that I felt. "I see. Then you should go humor the by-the-numbers rhetoric he's so desperately aching to spew. Please, before the chants of 'fascist opressor' from that dive of theirs clog the air and choke the local kine."

"I'll see him first thing tonight then."

"And give the Anarch community my regards."

Feeling dismissed with that, I turned and left the opulent room. Outside, the two guards turned and watched me leave, but said nothing. The elevator stood with doors open, with Scourge Walsh talking to a young woman in a pantsuit. Upon noticing me, he dismissed the woman and she entered the elevator and left us. I walked over to him, and he smiled.

"Meeting go well?"

"I suppose, I'm being sent out to the Dane after it get's towed into port."

"Ah, still under the Prince's boon, I take it?"

I let my shoulders slump. "Yes. I'm guessing it's standard practice to screw over the new recruits?"

"Fairly standard, I assure you," he said with a chuckle. "Soon, though, you will be the one being owed. Boon's are the currency of the Camarilla, and you may use a boon owed to you in any way you and the debtor can agree to. Whether that be money or to have them perform an action such as blowing up a warehouse or getting information."

"So I risked my life for nothing?"

"Not nothing. As long as you are running errands for the Prince, I am authorized to give you an expense card to be used with the local cab company. You will be able to move where you need to at no cost to yourself. I've also procured you a phone and my number is pre-programmed. Please call me if you see any breaches to the Masquerade, or other supernatural occurrence that my office needs to clean up. You will be paid accordingly for such information, and more if you can take care of the matter yourself."

"Great," I said, taking the expense card and gray flip phone and bag. It looked new, so I wasn't going to complain. The elevator soon returned, and me and Scourge Walsh got on board. He hit the button for the lowest floor available and soon we were descending.

"Are you having any problems that I should be aware of?" Walsh asked me.

"Just need to find a missing ghoul. I lost track of her after feeding her my blood."

"Does she know what she is?"

"No, nor that I am kindred. She was in critical condition when I found her and fed her my blood. But after that I've lost track of her."

"I wouldn't worry too much over her. Ghouls tend to be able to find their masters wherever they may travel."

"So she'll return for her next fix?"

"Probably in the next few days," he confirmed.

The doors opened and we stepped out, and he escorted me over to the main elevators down. While waiting for the elevator, he turned to face me again. "Good evening, Miss Flores, and happy hunting."

As I watched him walk away, I couldn't help but hate the structure they were trying to set up. It seemed so easy to screw someone over, especially the newbie who wasn't even comfortable in their own skin. Like this prince. I would have called the debt settled once I got back, but now I was being made into some kind of go to girl.

I thought about the Prince's words. A lack of talent, he had said. Well, if that were the case, I was about to become one of the most powerful Kindred in the city. I just needed to figure out how to get massive amounts of money, because living in Los Angeles wasn't cheap.

Maybe I needed to expand. Brian could use a boost in his sales, and more free time once I had a safe place to sleep might help him. I also needed to find out about Sharron's situation, whether she had a real place to live, rented, or lived with someone. It would be better if she lived with me, as I could reap her money better, but I wanted to make sure she was bound before I did that.

That just left Poe, who I was thinking might be more house maid and personal groomer than money maker. I needed to figure out where she was, and get her bound soon. Once I had that, I could plan more, but I didn't really see her as making money, just keeping me from becoming a mess.

That meant I had two ghouls making money. I needed more. As I left the building, stunned at how deep I was thinking that I hadn't noticed myself at this level until now, I couldn't help but think I needed more income.

Too bad Dennis turned me down. His place, while a wreck, would let me corral my ghouls and make some money. Illicit business always did seem to turn more money than honest work. I would just have to hope I could get more people to work for me and not piss off any Kindred when I did it.


	14. Chapter 14 - Of Ghouls and Blood Dolls

Chapter 14 – Of Ghouls and Blood Dolls

September 28, 2004 = Tuesday

I decided to head for home with what time I had left tonight. I didn't need to get caught by a rising sun, and the night was mostly spent anyway. The cab ride was swift, and it dropped me off at the end of the alley. The card Walsh had given me was accepted without question, so that was a relief. I looked around the alley, not seeing any of the girls that haunted the area. I wasn't really hungry, but it was nice to know that breakfast wasn't far away.

I headed upstairs, only to hear something pound a wall. It wasn't until it happened again that I realized it was coming from my apartment. I ran to the door, and was just turning the knob when I heard a woman shriek, "Where is it?!"

I opened the door to find a tall dark haired woman holding a gun on Brian. She never even noticed me, which made it easier to grab her wrist by the pressure point, then twist her arm back. She looked back at me, mouth twisted in a snarl, then I squeezed her pressure point harder, and made her fall to her knees.

"Ow, you dumb bitch!" she yelled at me. I didn't really care, but I did take the gun from her, tossing it to Brian. I kept her on her knees, and looked her over. She was short, thin, naturally gorgeous, and the dark hair was real. Her makeup was light, and only used to accentuate her natural beauty. She was dressed in a leather mini, with a light flouncy top. The only thing I noticed that was odd was that she had a little glitter in her cleavage, which was almost completely hidden in her top.

And the only reason she'd have glitter in her cleavage was that she was a stripper like Sharron.

"How did you find out," I asked her, making her lock eyes with me. She did, and she began shivering.

"Amber said that she'd only ever gets her stuff from Brian, so I wanted to know what he had given her that made her so good," she said, her lip trembled a little, making it sound like she was crying. "But he said he didn't have it."

"He doesn't," I told her, and her face fell. "I do."

"Please, that bitch doesn't deserve it," she began to plead, and I turned away to look at Brian. He was just getting up, but he didn't look badly hurt. Just a few bruises.

"Amber is Sharron's stage name. This here's Angel, Four-Play's best girl," Brian explained for me.

"Please, that tramp can't upstage me!" she said, and I began to wonder what she talking about. "All night long, all my best customers would take one look at her, and her obvious boob job, and walk right by me. How does she do it?"

I began to think about that, then the answer seemed so obvious I actually chuckled. I could do it, I didn't know my ghouls could. Must be something I would have learned had I actually been properly schooled. Well, I had been wanting more income. I began to think how to best describe it without giving away the secret.

"I got a product, something I been working on," I lied. "It's a pheromone enhancer, that's how she gets your customers. Quick boost of confidence, and she's suddenly the hot topic of the scene."

"How much?" she said, regaining some sense of composure. I smiled, business I could do. As long as we were doing business, I let go of her arm and she rubbed the sore spot on her wrist.

"Three grand per hit. Once it builds up in your system, should last a month between doses."

"Three grand?

"Cash only," I said, as I went to stand by Brian, glad he wasn't in worse shape.

"I can have it as soon as the bank opens in the morning."

My eyebrows went up at that. Three grand that fast? I would be in my own place in no time at this rate.

"Deal, come back and see Brian then, he'll have your dose. Maybe if you're nice when you do it, he'll give you your gun back," I said, as she got up. She really was short, I noticed as she stood no higher than me in six inch heels, but she had no fat anywhere on her. Her arms and legs were highly toned, and it was obvious she kept herself in excellent shape.

"And Angel, if anyone asks, you don't tell them about this new drug. I don't have a lot of stock to give to every dancer that comes along. If I find out you're telling people about it, I will cut you off and send someone to shut you up. Understood?"

"Yes," she said, then turned and left. I so needed more income, but I was really starting to feel like a juice box. Angel would make the fourth ghoul, and I decided that if I did get more ghouls they better not be dancers. It wouldn't do to have them all fighting over the same customers.

"Thanks, mistress," Brian said, going to sit on his bed. He laid the pistol beside him, and began rubbing at a sore spot on the side of his head. "That girl went crazy when I said I couldn't help her."

I went over to the desk, checking my stock. I was going to need more blood draw kits, as I had just the one left, and I didn't know when any of my ghouls would need their next hit. It was also puzzling that Sharron had developed my Presence capability, I really needed to talk with Mercurio again. I eyed my last draw kit, then decided I'd have to go get more. I only needed one more for Sharron, Brian drank straight from me. Poe would do that too, as I'd have to keep an eye on her since she'd be closer to me than most other ghouls I had. Angel would need at least two, and I really needed a spare in case I got the opportunity to make another ghoul. Just had to find one.

"Brian, I'm headed down to the clinic. I'll be back soon," I said, as I grabbed my bag from beside the desk. I really needed to find a medical outlet to get these from, or start making all my ghouls drink from the source. Might work, but I needed more info to make that call.

Brian only grunted as I left the small apartment, and once outside headed back to to the end of the alley. My eyes caught the sight of the lone red headed girl standing there, as she eyed the distant traffic. She didn't notice me until I was halfway across the road. "Hey baby, looking for a date?" she asked.

I nodded, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and we headed back into the alley. We no more than turned the corner before I slipped in behind her, wrapping both arms around her. She chuckled, not realizing what was about to happen, and I pulled her hair to the side with an arm. "Pay up, baby," she said, but I bit her bare neck before she could do or say more. Her blood was like pure honey, sweet and thick, and I drank her deep. After feeding, I licked her wounds clean, and set her down on the ground. I then frisked her body, taking several bills from her bra.

She wasn't the usual detritus I saw on my corner, and I looked her over again. Tight dark colored jeans, and wine colored halter top? If I had to guess, I would guess she was a young runaway. She was dressed in clothes not entirely suited for getting them off easily, and her Mary Janes with the baby heel were black and shiny, not the scuffed up mess I'd expect of a drug addict. No, this girl took care of herself. Her red hair was neat, freshly brushed, and pulled back in a neat ponytail and had not one split end.

I decided to leave her anyway, not that I didn't care about her, but what am I supposed to do? Stuff her in my bag? I walked through the back alleys to the clinic, taking the back door that led to the blood clinic. Inside, I headed straight for the supply room, glad that the early hours meant that most people were either tied up with patients or sitting at a desk trying not to nod off. I pulled four more kits and six more tubes out of a drawer, stuffing it all in my bag.

I left by the front entrance, not even getting a look from anyone, and headed back to my apartment. Miss runaway was standing hunched over, eyeing all traffic as it came and went. She eyed me, then kept going back to scanning everyone else.

"Hey, did you see anyone come into the alley after we finished?" she asked when I got close.

"No, it was just me and you," I told her. I didn't want to stop, not wanting to get into a fist fight which I'd obviously win, but traffic made me. She just shook her head, and kept leaning against the light post.

"Someone took all the money I had saved. I was hoping to buy a ticket out of here."

"Home life not that great huh," I responded, still not looking at her.

"Yeah, well," she said as she leaned against the light post to eye the sidewalk for another mark, "Anything is better than here,'

The traffic stopped, and instead of crossing the street, I paused. "Anything? Like feeling the ecstasy again that I left you in?"

I didn't look at her, but I could feel her staring at me. "I don't even remember what we did. I thought the attack had gave me amnesia."

"More like I left you so out of it that your attacker lifted your money while you were slack jawed on the ground."

"What's your name," she asked me, though I didn't look back.

"Eliza. Yours?"

"Constance," she said.

"What do I have to do," she said, coming over to stand with me. I looked at her, smiled and said "Follow me." I crossed the traffic and led her through the door to my apartment. Inside, Brian lay on his bed with his eyes covered, and I led my new 'friend' inside. I turned around to see the girl look the place over with disdain, her eyes settling on Brian. She shied away from him, but didn't run.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, her eyes on Brian.

"Simple," I told her. "I want you to be here when I wake up tonight."

"Um, for?" she prompted.

"Your blood is actually rather sweet and I'd like to keep it on hand, even if that means keeping you on hand."

"My blood?" She asked, her eyes going back to Brian. "Why?"

"I'm a vampire. Not the Bram Stroker kind, or even Interview kind. Hollywood hasn't actually quite nailed it yet. But we do need blood."

"So you want to drink my blood?"

"Already have. That's what left you feeling so good inside that I took this from you without you realizing it," I said, holding up her money.

"Oh," she said, rubbing her neck. "So, you feed on me when you wake up. Then what?"

"One thing Hollywood has partly right, is that there are some of us that don't have reflections, like me. I can't see myself if I look in a mirror. I want your other duties to include doing my makeup and hair."

She paused, looking at her Mary Janes as she decided. She looked around the squalor that was my apartment, then shivered. "Are you going to be here long? It's just a bit tight."

"No, I'm wanting to move into a house soon. If you were older, I'd have you file the appropriate paperwork and buy one for me. But since your still young enough to be in school during the day, I'll find someone else to buy one for me."

"Why not buy one yourself?"

I shook my head, looking down as I thought about what had happened to me. "I'm legally dead. I didn't just die in private, and get to walk around like I'm still alive. The coroner autopsied a body he identified as me, and they buried me. My best friend, Samantha gave the eulogy at my funeral, or so I'm told. My public life is over."

"Wait, I thought you looked familiar. You're Eliza Flores, right? The girl that was stabbed and left in a barrel full of water. The only reason they knew it was you was your wallet was nearby. I heard they ripped out your eyes and tongue."

"Yes," I told her. "I'm Eliza Flores. But I wasn't stabbed. Simeon kidnapped me and let his men rape me for days. When I escaped, he hunted me down and made me a vampire. I'm here now because of vampire politics. Don't ask, even I don't understand it, but they love to make my life hell."

"You know Samantha doesn't think you're dead? I heard her on Channel seven. The body they found, she refuses to believe its you."

I shook my head. If Samantha were searching for me, she'd find me eventually, in all likelihood. "It's best if she doesn't. The rules we vampires live by means we stay secret, a secret we kill to protect. If she finds me, I might have to kill her. And I don't think I can do that."

"Oh," she said, as she seemed to hunch down, and think.

"I get my own room?"

"Sure, as long as you do as you're told. One quick rule for you. You never tell anyone I'm a vampire. You do, and I'll drain you completely. Understood?"

"Yes," she said, then eyed the small apartment. "Since I'm going to be so close, can I get my clothes and stuff from home?"

"Okay, but don't tell anyone where you're going. I'll send Brian with you to help you move it all. Provided he hasn't OD'd on pain pills by then.

"I'll be there, mistress," he said, slightly startling me and the girl.

"What's his deal, anyway? You need that much?"

"No, Brian is my bodyguard. He protects me while I sleep. Speaking of, you might also get sent with him to help pick out clothes for me to wear. For obvious reasons, I can't go shopping while the stores are open."

"Daylight restrictions, huh?" she said, as she took a seat on the counter, which groaned in protest from her light weight.

"I think I can stay awake," I told her, as I went to check on my email, "but it doesn't seem worth it in this tiny room with nowhere to go."

She looked around at the cramped space, nodding. "Where do you sleep?"

"In the shower. I thought about sleeping under the bed, but the shower seemed cleaner." She laughed at that, and I scrolled through the junk mail, looking for actual messages I needed to look at.

"So, where do I sleep?" she asked me.

"You can have the bed at night. How do you feel about school?"

"I hate ruining my four-point-oh GPA, so maybe I'll go back if that's alright? I kind of wanted to be a doctor one day."

"So did I," I said under my breath. I looked outside at the sunlight that was coming up. Daylight would soon be upon me, and it was time for me to get ready for bed. I went into the bathroom, laying out my makeshift bed, and started stripping my clothes off. The sun actually rose before I was ready so, I wadded everything up into a pile and wrapped myself in a towel. Stepping out, I put my dirty laundry in the bag by the desk for Brian to wash later.

"Brian, still up?" I asked, even as I yawned.

"Yes, mistress," he said, not moving an inch to get up or acknowledge me.

"If Constance runs, tie her up. If she starts to get away, kill her. Understood?"

"Yea, tie her up if she runs, kill her if I can't catch her. Anything else, mistress?

"I'm going to rig the blood draw kit before I go to bed. All you have to do is put the rubber end into the needle and it will fill. Make Angel take it here, with you watching. Alright?"

"Yes, mistress," he said. He must have one killer headache to still be hiding from the light.

I yawned again, as I was really feeling tired. Constance looked at me, for the first time probably figuring out how deep in the shit she was. "And if you haven't taken care of the shopping by the time she gets out of school, take her with you. And Connie, if you aren't there, we're going to assume your running. Understood?

"Yes, ma'am," she said, looking down.

Nodding more to myself that my orders would be carried out, I took a blood draw kit and went back into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I unwrapped the towel, then laid down on my makeshift bed and draped the towel over my body. It didn't take a moment to have the needle inserted into a vein, then I laid back. With a final yawn, I let myself drift into oblivion.


	15. Chapter 15 - Brian's Day

Chapter 15 – Brian's Day = Brian's POV

September 29, 2004 = Wednesday

'She definitely has an ass,' I thought as I watched the mistress walk into the bathroom. Well, I had my orders. Get the girl to her house to get her get her stuff, then send her off to school, plus everything else I had to do today. Get Angel her fix, get the mistress some more clothes, make sure the runt didn't run.

'Yeah, not a good day,' I thought as I pulled the rag off my eyes and put my feet on the ground. I still had a headache from the beating Angel gave me, but as Mercurio had told me, I'd heal faster than I'd thought possible. My arm no longer hurt, nor did my ribs, but my head still felt like I had the top ten worst metal bands going full grunge.

But I had a job to do, and something in me wasn't going to let my mistress's wants go unneeded. I glanced to Constance, who stood at the window. Shivering? Na, that couldn't be right. What did she have to fear? Well, except maybe the fact that she was food for the mistress. But she knew that going in, right?

I stood and went to stand behind her. She flinched at seeing my reflection, wrapping her arms tight around herself. What was she afraid of?

"So, I guess your going to do it now?" she asked, her voice a full octave higher. She still never looked back at me, but kept her eyes forward.

"Do what?" I asked, shifting on my feet. I didn't have much time, and I needed to be back by eight.

"You're going to break me in, right? Make me obedient by doping me up on something?"

I shook my head. What did she think she was going on anyway? "Not my job," I said, sidestepping the issue. The mistress would have my head if she didn't have her breakfast. Was it breakfast? Or was she more like a milkshake? "Mistress said to take you home and get your stuff. That's what we're going to do."

"Oh, okay," she said, very visibly relaxing.

"Come on, kid," I said, turning around and walking for the door. "Gotta get going."

"Yeah," Constance said, turning to follow, "Just not looking forward to going home again."

Constance's directions for her house took us away from the beach into a troubled neighborhood. The buildings were more run down here and the streets were rougher. Constance didn't seem happy to be going home but she kept walking, even as the sun rose overhead raising the temperature. I began to wonder why she hated going home so much, but there wasn't a lot that made sense about her. Then again, nothing made sense since the mistress walked out of the shadow and into my life.

God, I didn't need to be distracted by her right now. I kept my eyes on Constance, then followed her as she turned in to a small run down dump. She used a key hidden under the front steps to get in, not even bothering to replace it. I hesitantly stepped inside, not from any fear that I wasn't invited, but that I didn't know who was home.

The first thing I noticed was the empty whiskey bottles. Like, lots of them. Questions formed in my mind, but for now they'd go unanswered. Not like I wouldn't have a lot of time to get them answered. If she ever decided to talk that is.

I followed her into what I assumed was her room. Constance was pulling clothes by the handful from her closet, tossing them onto her bed which set flat on the floor. I looked around the room, noticing some of the furniture was broken, including a broken box full of CD's. I perused the broken cases, finding Santana, Christina Aguilera, Aaliyah, and Destiny's Child among the mix.

'What a waste,' I thought, as Constance left the room. I suddenly felt awkward, being in her room without her, but just leaned up against the wall and pulled out my cigarettes. I had just lit one when Constance came back with a couple of trash bags. She pushed her clothes into the bags, leaving only her school uniform out. She had actually undone most of the buttons on her slutty halter top before she remembered I was in the room. Clutching her top closed, she spun to face me.

"God! Mind giving me a little privacy, you perv?"

"Nothing I haven't seen before," I told her. Not that I was interested in her, but I was trying to keep my mind off Eliza. Constance gave me a pleading look which I ignored. She turned around, trying to minimize what I could see as she took her halter top off to put on the white button-up shirt. I could see the bruise on her back that had been covered before. She then put on the gray skirt before undoing her jeans and taking them off. They also went in the bag, along with her fancy shoes. She pulled a set of pumps from the other side of the bed and was just setting down to put them on when the front door thumped open.

"Constance! Get your ass out here!" a loud voice yelled. I looked over at Constance, to see a tear roll off her cheek.

"I'm not doing it again," she whimpered softly. "Not with him."

"Don't worry," I told her, taking hit off my cigarette. "You're not for him anymore."

Constance nodded, and finished getting dressed. After bagging up the last of her stuff, she tied off the two bags. I picked them up, and Constance led the way back out. Back in the main room, I met the man who seemed to terrify Constance. He was sitting on the couch, wearing only his boxers, a half empty Jack bottle in his hand.

"You little, slut!" he yelled at her.

"Goodbye, Charlie," she said, as she walked to the door. That seemed to piss off the man on the couch as he roared to his feet and charged us. He managed to knock Constance off her feet, before I realized what was going on. I then dropped the bags and threw a punch at the drunk, knocking him away from Constance before he could further harm her. The drunk quickly floundered around and found his feet, charging me.

I found I could easily sidestep the brute, and pushed him enough to plow into the wall. That caused the drunk to hold his head, this time staying on the floor. I checked on Constance, who was picking herself up off the floor. She seemed fine, but there was hatred in her eyes.

"I'm leaving. Tell mom whatever you want, I don't care any-fucking-more," she said, her voice as venom filled as a snakes. She then picked up a bag, and walked out the door, leaving me alone with the nearly naked drunk.

"Let me add something to that," I said, kneeling down beside him. "If you come for her, if you send any cops to get her, Death itself will come visit you," I said, sure that my Mistress would come herself to retrieve Constance. She seemed to have a thing for the young girl's blood. The drunk nodded, and feeling the man knew better than to try and do anything foolish, I picked up the last bag and ran after Constance.

I caught up to her about half a block away, not that she was trying to get away. She kept her head down, not happy with having to contend with her step-father. I let her deal with her own problems, mainly because I didn't know how to deal with them either. What is it with women and their mental hang-ups?

My thoughts went to my mistress, Eliza. How am I going to deal with my feelings for her? Anything she said, I'd do. Even being forced to turn around when she got dressed. But during the day, when she would lie there, I couldn't help but admire her beauty. And at night, when she'd come out dressed in a towel, I'd look at my Playboy magazines so she wouldn't think I was getting off looking at her.

I shook my head but couldn't stop thinking of her. I knew her blood was my drug, but it was so addictive that I couldn't ever stop thinking of her. I looked at Constance, wondering how the girl dealt with her problems. As a guy, I usually never did. We just exist, letting the problem take care of itself in time. If it was a girl, well there were always more fish in the sea.

But Eliza? She was the legend. The one you mount and show off to your friends.

I shook my head again. 'Focus,' I told myself. 'Quit thinking about the mistress.' I was glad when we finally got back to the apartment, and we placed both bags in the falling-down kitchen. I checked the time, thirty after seven. I had time before Angel showed up, but Constance needed to get off to school.

"Shouldn't you be heading for school?" I asked and she nodded absently.

"Yeah," she said. "Where's Eliza?"

"Asleep," I said. "Sharron will be here at probably three, so when you get out, rush home. Now, better go before you're late."

Constance nodded, then left the apartment. I sat on the bed, preparing myself for the great waiting game. All day long, if I had nothing to do, I would just lay out on the bed. Making sure nothing harmed her. At least now I'd have someone to share it with after three.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost missed the knock at the door. Getting up and pulling the Glock from under my pillow, I answered it. Angel stood there, still dressed the same as she'd been earlier. She didn't wait for an invitation, but just came straight in, aggravating me.

"Where is it?" she demanded.

"Cash first," I said, making sure to keep the pistol on her. I wasn't going to take a chance, not with the mistress in the next room. Angel pulled a bank envelope from her cleavage, tossing it to me. I caught it with my free hand and opened the envelope, counting the hundred dollar bills out. The full three thousand was there, which really didn't surprise me.

Angel wasn't an addict, like most dancers. She actually had a brain and refused to enslave herself to any drug, which made her decision to take the same stuff Sharron did seem off. Though as I had it figured if it made Sharron, who usually was just another fly on the wall seem like a pretty flower, what would it do the pretty flower? Make it a rose bush in full bloom?

Tucking the money into my pants, I looked at a waiting Angel. "Alright, sit on the bed, both hands on your knees." Angel complied, though the lady in her had her legs close together. I slipped past her, and into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. Eliza lay on her blanket, passed out while the sun was up. The vial was in her hand, with a needle thing sticking out of her arm. I had the basic idea, and took the vial from her hand and stuck it in the needle, and it began to fill. The idea that I could milk my mistress like this forever hit me, but I dismissed it. I was her slave in a contract written by blood. I'd never get away with it.

Never.

With the full vial, I went back out to find Angel waiting on me. I handed her the vial, but I kept the gun ready. "Drink it, here and now." I told her.

"It looks like blood. It's tainted isn't it? AIDS or something?"

"Hardly. Same stuff Amber takes. Guaranteed to make you the most desired girl in the room. Oh, and you take that here and now, or I," I waved the gun a bit, never taking it off her. Angel got the point, popping the top on the vial and downing it. She gasped as it hit, and I finally lowered the gun. She was hooked now, forever bound to our mistress.

"Okay, that's a rush. Can I get my gun back now?" she asked, smiling a bit to entice me. "I kind of need it to protect myself."

I smiled. Yeah, I can be a dick. In more ways than one. I slipped a free hand into my pants to rub my limp noodle and her face fell. I had never been able to afford any of the girls at Four Play and the occasional fling with Sharron was as close to heaven as I could get. Sure I used drugs to get girls to sleep with me, sometimes they were young like that Constance kid. Those were the ones I was probably the biggest dick to, forcing the girls to trade their bodies for their fix which in turn led to more drugs and sex.

Watching as Angel slipped off her flowery top had my limp noodle rising to attention. With her top off, I could see her white push-up bra and how it held her those perfectly formed tits. She reached behind her back to unhook her bra, then laid it on top of her shirt beside the bed. I stared at her perfectly formed breasts and her light pink nipples transfixed by her beauty. It wasn't until she leaned back on the bed to slip her leather mini off that I realized I was overdressed.

Stashing the gun on top of the fridge, I used both hands to push my pants and underwear to the floor. It was only then I realized that I still had my shoes on, so I slipped them off with my pants around my ankles. As I looked up to Angel, my hardening manhood pointing the way, I saw that she was already slipping her panties down creamy legs. Seeing the slit of her womanhood had my own manhood achingly hard. The moment she added the panties to the pile that was her clothes, she spread her legs and used a hand to spread her slit wide in invitation.

Like I needed one?

=o=0=o=

Scene edited for sexual content. Please visit Archiveofourown and find this story there for the rest of this scene. Sorry, Fanfiction won't let me post sexual scenes or other links with these stories. My name there is RaiderWolf, and the story name is Rise of a Shadow.

=o=0=o=

Suddenly tired, I sat back on my heels as Angel wiped my seed from off her eyes. She looked pretty pissed, but didn't try to hit me as she shuffled for the edge of the bed. I let her go, collapsing onto the bed behind her. It wasn't until she turned to head for the bathroom that I remembered that the mistress was in that room. Thinking fast, I blurted out, "Bathroom doesn't work."

Angel turned to face me, face scrunched up in annoyance. "Then how am I supposed to get your jizz off of me?"

"Use the sink," I said and she walked into the kitchen. I got up to get her a wash cloth from the bathroom so she wouldn't see the mistress sleeping in the shower. She snatched it from my hand and wet it in the running water. I left her to clean herself and sit on the bed. It didn't take her long to get herself back in her clothes, which I found odd considering she made a career out of taking them off.

"My gun?" she said, as she straightened her clothes and looked around for the weapon.

"Top of the fridge," I said, watching as the short woman searched with her hand to find the weapon. When she brought it down, she looked pissed, but didn't point it at me as she checked the drum then she snapped it closed.

"So, who do I see when I need the next dose and how long do I have?" she asked as she stowed the gun in the waistband of her leather mini and hid it with the flouncy top.

"Come back here for it," I told her and she nodded. "Doses last about a month, but you have any problems you're to come back here to me. I can get a hold of her and get you lined out pretty fast if there's any problems. Oh, and like she told ya," I said as I looked her right in the eyes to make sure she got the seriousness of what I was saying, "You tell anyone about this 'drug,' and I'll dose you with heroin and you'll think of your time at Four Play was a leisure cruise as you spend your nights in some foreign brothel serving fifty men a day."

"Not like I want anyone to be better than me," she said sourly as she turned for the door. I let her go, then lay on the bed in the nude as I relived the sex in my brain. With nothing left to do and hours to go before anything was required of me, I let myself fall asleep.

=o=0=o=

I lay on the bed, only bothering to put my pants back on after getting up. I didn't know which one would show up first, but didn't want to be wholly undressed in case the kid was first. She actually was, and came bursting into the apartment just after three. She looked around, seeing me and dropped her bookbag by the door.

"Waiting on me?"

"And Sharron," I said, looking at the ceiling. I could hear Constance rummaging through the bags, but didn't bother to look at her. I was still imagining Angel and being in heaven. It wasn't until I heard the door beside me open before I was brought back to reality.

"Brian, sweety," Sharron said as she walked in. "Are you ready to go?"

"Might as well," I said, sitting up to slip on my shoes. I could finally see Constance was going through her stuff, maybe looking for something, or organizing. Hard to tell.

The three of us then left the apartment, using Sharron's car to go the store. I ended up playing referee between the two girls, and wished I had the will to blow my aching head off. But my orders stood. I finally just decided to pay for Constance's purchases myself to keep Sharron happy. It was better that way, to let the mistress decide I thought. After that, Sharron us them outside our one room apartment, as she had to get to work, which meant that I had to carry all the clothes myself. I was glad I was strong enough, because leather was heavy and boy did Sharron love to buy and wear leather.

"I gotta use the bathroom," Constance said, as she opened the door to the apartment. I no more got the door closed behind me before Constance came running out, screaming. Thankfully I caught her before she could get out of the door.

"She's dead!"

"Of course she's dead," I said calmly, barely able to hold the struggling teen. "She's been dead since before I met her."

"No, I mean really dead. She's got no pulse! I checked! She OD'd in the shower," Constance said, still trying to get out.

"She'll be up in a few hours, promise," I said, finally forcing the girl back from the door. "Until then, you stay here."

"But she's dead!"

"Listen," I said, my voice rising a bit. "If she were dead, I'd think I'd feel it. She's a vampire. I drink her blood. Sharron does too. But you can't tell no one that. When she brought you here, I thought you knew what you were getting into."

"I thought she was like a Goth or something and she'd take my blood by needle. I didn't think she actually was a vampire with fangs."

"She is. Let me show you something," I said, letting go of her. When I was sure she wouldn't bolt, I reached under the bed to grab a gray shirt with some blood stains on it. I held it up, with the bloody side facing her, letting her see the bullet holes in it clear through to the untouched material on the other side. "She wore this the day we met. Dennis, my former boss, shot her six times. As close to her as I am to you. Knocked her back, but she got back on her feet and killed him. I've seen her break a bat at the thick end just by twisting her wrists. If she ain't a vampire, then I'm a leprechaun."

"But," Constance started, then looked at the bloody shirt again examining the thumb sized holes with her own thumb. "She really is going to eat me? Tonight?"

"Yeah," Brian said. "Does that bug you?"

"Yeah, I don't want to die," she said, sitting down on the bed. "It's why I left Charlie. I got tired of him beating on me cause he was too drunk and old to get it up."

"Well, welcome to the weird world of our mistress," I said, folding the shirt back up and stashing it under the bed. I don't know why but I didn't want to let go of that shirt. "She's got a rule, number one thing she told me. Vampire secrets stay secret. You're staying here. If you're going to be a problem, she'll have me chain you to the bed. So just calm down alright?"

Constance sank into a chair at the desk. "Can we at least get something to eat?"

"Sure, we can get pizza." I said, as I picked up my mistress's cell phone. I never had used one of these before, but I understood the basic principles. "You got any homework to do?"

"Chemistry," she said, getting her bookbag. "Oh, I'd like extra garlic."

I called up my favorite pizza spot, ordering a large supreme with extra garlic. I kept myself next to the door, while Constance settled herself at the desk and began to work, occasionally glancing back at the closed door or out the window. I pulled the gun from mistress's bag to make sure Constance didn't try to scream for help. Constance noticed the pistol in my hand, but didn't say anything.

The pizza was delivered and paid for by me, while Constance sat to her desk. I was glad she didn't start shouting for help, not that she was able to see the delivery boy all that well. I didn't open the door much, dealing with the kid through the small crack while I kept the pistol in the back of my waistline. Once the kid was gone, I shut the door and laid the pizza on the desk between us.

For the next hour, me and Constance sat in silence. I watched the outside window as the shadows sank so low that the side of the building was now shades of gray and black. Constance became so embroiled in her homework that she didn't notice the shower come on and I smiled. The mistress was crazy about showering, did it every time she woke up. I couldn't blame her though. That stall was so grimy it probably had her feeling as icky as a week without a shower.

When the door opened, I saw the mistress wrapped in her towel. Constance noticed my smile at seeing the mistress, and then promptly fell off her chair.

'Well, I told her,' he thought, and smiled at my mistress when she looked my way. Anything for her.

"Constance?" my mistress asked as she looked at the startled teen.

"I thought you were dead," she said, almost hyperventilating from the floor. "You really are a vampire?"

She nodded, smiling at the teen's antics. She eyed the pizza, before shaking her head. Eliza sat in the now empty chair, still wearing nothing but her towel, and waited. Constance quickly picked herself up, and with a haste and jerkiness born out of fear, quickly setup the makeup kit and started brushing out the mistress's hair.

I could see Constance mutter something under her breath, but I couldn't hear her. Apparently my mistress could, and chuckled before responding.

"Ghosts are also real, as are werewolves, but don't ask me why they won't introduce themselves when you see one," she said, chuckling at some private joke. Even Constance got a chuckle out of it before stifling herself and getting on with the mistress's personal grooming.

"I guess I was just expecting you to pimp me out. Not eat me." she said, as she continued. I rolled my eyes, letting the women have their private moment but kept my eyes glued to her in case I got to see a breast by accident.

I watched as the mistress smiled as Constance quickly brushed her dark hair out, helping it dry from the recent shower. Constance then came to stand in front of Eliza, and I could see the nearly gray complexion the kid had. She quickly applied a base, taking a moment to decide on an appropriate color with the slightly off skin tone.

"Oh, Angel came by while you were out," I said as I watched her be attended to by Constance. "Money's in the drawer."

Soon Constance finished applying the makeup. She then brought out several bags for them to peruse through, all containing various clothes.

"I picked some of these out myself. Sharron doesn't seem to know the meaning behind conservative," Constance said, as some of the wilder choices became clear. Tight leather pants, leather crop tops, and heels in excess of six inches had been bought, and I could see the mistress grimace as she saw the various risque choices she had to wear.

Soon though, Constance laid out several other outfits that I had bought myself. The first was a dark pair of trousers with a wrap crop top and sleeves that would fall around her elbows. The second outfit was a little more girlish, a white tank with a deep v neck and unfinished hem suggesting it was designed to be tied in a knot, along with a dark cotton skirt that was a bit long, or was to my way of thinking.

As Constance laid out the third set, I saw her face light up in delight as she fingered the business suit with its red silk shirt. The whole set was made of satin, and promised to wear well. Really a nice set. Expensive, but nice.

"I'm going to have to remember that store," Constance was saying. "I swear, it's like all the best styles for nothing."

"Sharron said that the girls who don't make it in the movies usually end up selling everything they have for a bus ride home. Kind of sad, really," I explained to my mistress. "If they hang on too long, they end up in the porn industry. Sharron is one step above it right now."

"And Angel?" she asked, trying to take in all the information I was giving her.

"She's one step below making it in Hollywood. Just hasn't quite got that last little bit to make it in movies."

She nodded, trying to figure out which of the sets she should wear. She settled on a pair of candy apple red leather pants, and a leather crop tank top. I could see the distaste in her face at the selection, but was forced to assume she was going to ruin another set and didn't want to choose one she might want to wear somewhere important.

Taking her outfit into the bathroom, she slipped it all on. It fit well, though the leather looked a bit stiff and needed to be rolled a few she stepped back out into the main bedroom, Constance had several sets of shoes from low heels to almost foot high stripper shoes. Again the mistress shook her head, before reaching under the bed for her regular shoes.

Now was fully dressed, she stepped up behind Constance who was putting everything away under the bed. She was trembling, and dropped the box containing the eight inch heels onto the floor. She bent over, hesitating as she picked it up, then stood up with the box in her hands.

Eliza ran a hand over her shoulder, then leaned over Constance's neck. "Lean your head over," she commanded, "and pull your hair out of the way. Do this every time, understand?"

Constance nodded, raising a hand to move her hair to the side. All that was left now was her bare neck. I saw Eliza's fangs slide out as she pulled her close, then bit slowly into her neck. She stopped after drinking a bit, Constance going limp in her arms. Eliza picked her up, moving her to lie on the bed as I watched from the window. Eliza arranged her in a sleeping position, then tucked the cover in around her.

I watched as she came over, picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. I handed her back the pistol from where I kept it in the back of my pants, and she slid back in the bag.

"I take it you gave Angel back hers?" she asked as she checked the bag for stuff she might need for the night.

"Yeah," I said, not going into the details of how I fucked her five times, cumming in her pussy each time. I'd always wanted a piece of her, and was glad I'd taken the chance when it presented itself.

"Good," she said as she headed for the door, satisfied that there was nothing left for her to take with her. "She might need it for her own protection."

"Stay safe out there," I said as Eliza opened the door, she smiled a wan smile before bowing her head and heading out, the door sliding shut behind her.

Now there was nothing to do but wait. This time for her to come home. I spun the chair to face the window and sat in it backward so I could watch the runt, silently wondering how long she'd be out. I didn't know what to expect, but I'd keep an eye on her in case I needed to find the mistress. It actually didn't take a minute for her to start moving, the first thing she did was to rub her neck.

"That was intense," she whispered, still trying to focus.

"Wouldn't know. She's never fed from me," I told her from my chair. "Only other time I saw her eat was when she killed a buddy of mine. Drank him to death. That was the night I became hers. So tell me, how does it feel?"

"At first, painful. But then, it's like the pain goes away and you experience nothing but pleasure. It's like your first time, but only a million times better."

I nodded, but didn't understand her reference. "Still want to run?"

Constance shook her head. "I don't know. Were you the one who put me on the bed?"

"No. She did that after you passed out."

"She cares," I heard her whisper. "I guess I'll stay for awhile. Though I am gonna need a lot of iron rich food though, so I can replace my blood faster. I'm already light headed."

"Well, we can go shopping for food tomorrow," I said, glad the kid wasn't going to rabbit anymore. "Mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said, fluffing the pillow up a bit under her head so she could see him.

"Why did you go with her if you didn't think she was a vampire?"

She frowned, closing her eyes a bit, before she responded. "I'm not stupid. I know I can't really do a lot on my own without money. When she offered me a place to stay, I thought she was going to become my pimp and sell me. I didn't know it was her that took my money, but it was all I had. I mean, you saw where I come from. I didn't want to go back to that.

"Charlie," she paused, closing her eyes again before she continued on. "He doesn't care for me. He just thinks of me as his own personal sex slave. With someone else, I hoped at least they'd want me safe for the money they could make selling my body. Give me a place to stay, food. I figured if nothing else, if they addicted me to drugs, I could get clean later. It would set me back a bit, but just about anything was better than staying there."

"That's about as stupid as I've ever heard," I said, causing her to stare at me. "There's a whole host of drugs that can induce memory problems. I should know, made a few of them myself. Scopolomine is the worst, but doesn't last long, and there are some that keep you from making new memories. How would you like to relive the same day over and over again? And you think you can get cured from an addiction? Try meth once, and you'll want it again for the rest of your life. Guaranteed.

"I seen girls want their fix so bad they'll do anything to get it. And yeah, I used that against them. I couldn't even stack all the girls I forced to have sex with me in this room if I tried. I seen girls sell their gold jewelry for one hit. And you think you can just quit cold turkey? It never goes away. Never. Take it from someone who's taken the innocence of a bunch of kids. Drugs are bad news.

"Take our mistress's blood for example. It has benefits, but you realize the next time I drink it, that's it for me? The only way for me to get away from her then is if she dies. I'll be hers. Even if that means I'll have to take a knife to my own throat. And I can't get her out of my head. Mercurio said that goes with the territory for me now. They are the master race, the predator above us in the food chain. You're better off being her pet, hoping for her grace and mercy, than on her bad side."

"She really is a vampire, huh? Undead predator that hunts humans for food."

"Yeah, just be glad she doesn't have to kill to eat. And she likes you. As far as I know, tomorrow morning, you will go to school. I don't know, but if you can go to UCLA she might actually let you, as long as you are here when she wakes up."

"A favored pet," she whispered, turning to face the door from where she lay on the bed. "I guess it's better than being sold for sex."

"Well, if what you say is true, it's better than sex."

Constance laughed. "How about steak and eggs in the morning? I'm not kidding about needing iron."

"Sure. I'll take you up to the diner if it's opened back up. They had some sort of shootout there. Bloods and Crips, probably."

"Okay, but first, I think I'll sleep. You going to be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. I'll sleep while you're at school. See ya in the morning, alright?"

Constance just nodded, her eyes already closed. I figured the girl had a rough day, and let her sleep. Now, I just had to wait for mistress to come home.


	16. Chapter 16 - Going to the Elizabeth Dane

Chapter 16 – Going to the Elizabeth Dane

September 29, 2004 = Wednesday

"You covered my ass," Mercurio said, as I stepped out the door into the alley. The old ghoul didn't have a scratch on him, at least not that I could see, and looked like he'd been living the good life not getting the piss beat out of him.

"If I didn't know any better," I said, smiling at the one person who had the information I needed, "I'd say you just got off vacation, not getting off your deathbed."

"I'm telling you, that blood you got is a wonderful thing. Since I'm feeling well enough, I've been sent to get you out to the Dane. Boats down by the beach."

"Great," I said, motioning for him to lead. "Could have used you a few days ago. Got a wayward ghoul."

"She'll come home. Even now, I can feel my master back in Lacroix Tower. They'll come to you, wherever you might be, looking for their fix. That first taste really does seal our fate."

We walked down the street, and I couldn't think that with Mercurio working with me this mission to the Dane would be a piece of cake. Once we were down on the beach, Mercurio led me to the small, rubber motorboat he had tied off on the nearby boardwalk. The boat was barely beached, so I walked straight from dry ground onto the boat to sit in the middle. Mercurio shucked his shoes and socks off, dumping them in the front and rolled up his pants. Untying the boat, he shoved us off the beach, then climbed in behind me. Starting the motor we sped into the night.

The ride out to the Dane was silent. It wasn't hard to spot, though, as she was lit with lights enough to show the entire length of the ship. It actually had me nervous. What if they caught me? Bullets do hurt, and how was I supposed to explain the blood drinking and the sleeping all day in the dark. That I was sick with a rare disease?

We arrived at the rear of the ship where a rope ladder hung. Mercurio shut off the engine, and we bumped lightly against the ship. I looked up the ladder, then stood up. I put my foot on the rung, and got ready to climb.

"I'll be here waiting," Mercurio said, readying a cigarette. "If they start shooting, I'm going to slide this out in the darkness and wait. Try to come off on the shore side, I'll be watching for you there." I nodded, then climbed the ladder. At the top, I peaked over the deck to see if anyone was nearby, finding myself staring at the glossy shined shoe of an officer.

"For Chrissakes. Tell Jacobson if he plans to make editor-in-chief, he's gotta start work with me. I can't keep getting him these scoops if he's gonna send high school journalists who don't know enough to wear something that would blend in."

"Jacobson called me from a rave I was covering that was supposed to feature Nerf Herder," I explained, trying to think of a local band that was still only local but popular. Had to love that theme song, though I'd have to run if I met any actual slayers. "Apparently the guy who was supposed to be here got sent to the hospital. Crashed."

"Alright, look. I got you a copy of the initial report," he said, handing me a stapled stack of pages, "and I can get you in to the cabin to see the feed, but you gotta make yourself real scarce after that. Anybody catches you, I don't know you. And no goddamn flash photography, brainchild."

I looked around, unsure of where the 'cabin' was supposed to be. "Where do I go?"

"Hold up a sec," he said, grabbing the mike off his shoulder. "Heinz to Marsh, Heinz to Marsh. Marsh, they need you in the bridge, over." He let go the mic and looked at me. "The security room will be clear. Just head over, wait in the shadows, and I'll call Anderson off the gangplank. Take it to the first door on your right, head up the stairs to to the security room. The password for the computer is 'lighthouse,' one word. You getting all that?"

I nodded, and he continued. "Don't forget to stay out of sight. If anyone sees you, you're on your own. Now get a move on, and don't forget to tell Jacobson I get double my usual fee for this one."

I smiled, glad this dumbnut had given me the report so I didn't have to hunt one down. I didn't know what was in the security room, but it had to be connected to a camera system. Maybe they had a camera on the sarcophagus?

I ducked into the shadows, hiding behind a large piece of machinery. The officer nodded, then called Anderson over to the rail to see a baleen whale. That let me slip past him, without even using my shadow powers. Kind of a let down, really. I hadn't made it far before I saw another officer lighting a cigarette at the end of the gangplank.

Glad I was at the door, I opened it and went through. The stairs were apparent, so I went up, then silently opened that door. Finding no one inside, I went in. There was a TV monitor on the desk, but it wasn't displaying any video. What the officer said about needing a computer password had me tap a button and look at the menu choices. Control seemed the most likely, so I typed in the access command for it. When prompted, I entered the given password and it was accepted. So anti-climatic. The next menu options made it clear why I needed the password, and I typed in the command, 'deck cams on.' The monitor then displayed the video feeds, and I cycled through the available options, finding one of a container ripped open.

I looked at the monitor closely, finally figuring out what I was seeing. The container containing the sarcophagus was in pieces. The grainy video showed hand prints and blood streaks. One hand print near the center caught my attention. It looked half formed, as if it were made from moving the lid from inside. Scary thought. What kind of vampire sleeps long enough to need a permanent bed?

Shaking my head, I stood and thought about where to go to find the last thing I was sent for, the cargo manifest. I looked around the computer, but luck was not with me. If it wasn't here, I was going to have to do a room by room check until I found it, working my way to the bridge, unless I found a records room.

Which I found as soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs.

I slowly opened the door, checking to see if anyone was inside. A single bulb lit the room, but nothing was inside. I went in, finding a book on the desk in the center. The cover said cargo manifests, and inside was a bunch of paperwork pertaining to containers. Hoping it was the right thing I picked up the large and heavy book and put it in my bag. I did a quick mental check, and finding that was the last thing I needed, decided to slip back to the boat.

Knowing that the officer that had been called off from guarding the gangway was probably back at his post, I took the other door out. It led into a hallway, and following the doors rearward came out on on the gangway I came in on. I slipped through the shadows, with the officer who gave me the report not even noticing my exit. I slipped down the ladder, where Mercurio was waiting for me. I sat in the front, and Mercurio started the motor.

In silence, we headed back to the beach which gave me time to wonder. What kind of kindred sleeps millenia away?


	17. Chapter 17 - Moving Right Along

Chapter 17 = Moving Right Along

September 29, 2004 = Wednesday

After getting back to land, I headed downtown to the Last Round. The building itself was unimpressive. A two story bar with blacked out windows, even on the top floor. I paid the cabbie with the card, and left him, walking up to the unguarded door. The bottom floor had a few people milling about, and not seeing Nines I headed for the stairs to check there. I was about to put my foot on the first step when a redhead in a beatnik outfit stepped out of the store room.

"Sabbat chase you in here, Cammie?" she asked me.

It was her tone more than her words that stopped me. I'd never known beatniks to be violent, but if she were kindred, who knew what she could or would do. I stopped and looked her over, and then decided I was wrong. Though in the dark of the doorway she wore a beret, tight shirt and the Capri pants I'd associate with the lifestyle, there were differences. Her Capri pants were actually skinny jeans that had for some reason been ripped off below the knee. Her shirt was a military patterned camouflage one, and her beret was dark green, again army style. It screamed warrior, so I figured I better tread carefully.

"Why do you ask?" I said, taking my foot off the stair and facing her.

"Heard Nines saved your ass again," she said, leaning up against the door's frame. "You think Lacroix would've stopped counting his money long enough to get your back, jack?"

I mentally rolled my eyes. This must have been what Bertram meant when he said Brujah were troublemakers. "What's the fuck is your problem?"

"Oh, ho, ho," she said, getting a little animated as she straightened up and putting her arms in the air. "You want to know what my problem is? Alright, I'll tell you what my problem is. You ready? YOU are my goddamn problem. Anyone who would lay it down for some cape in an ivory tower deserves what they get."

"What alternative do I have?" I asked her. "Lacroix has me a short lease right now."

"You want an alternative? Being here, that's a step in the right direction," she said, calming down some but still looked as scrappy. "I'm Damsel. Den mother of these mothers and one pissed bitch since Lacroix rolled in."

"Trust me, if I could I would," I told her. "I'd rather be left alone."

"Hey, Cammy," she said, seeming deflate a whole three inches as her tone lost its edge. "I don't apologize often, but," she shook her head and leaned against the wall by the stairs, "It's just with all the shit's been going down lately, and to top of it this plaguebearer getting the CDC's attention…maybe I misjudged you's all I'm saying."

"It's understandable. So, what's a plaguebearer?" I asked Damsel.

"A fool that doesn't care who they feed from," she said and my eyes went up at the thought that I might have gotten sick and not known it. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking. We can't get sick, but the kine can, and kindred that feed on them start spreading disease. Enough get sick, it's an epidemic. CDC's in town as we speak!"

"Kine? Normal people I suppose?" I said as I tried to process what she was saying. "So if we feed from them when they're sick, we can pass it on like a carrier?"

"Yeah, but it's only blood-borne diseases, like HIV, hepatitis, stuff like that," she said and I sighed in relief. "It may even be supernatural in origin. Don't know, don't care. But we gotta stop it before someone figures it out."

"Let me guess," I said as I figured it out. "The kindred becomes a carrier. So, how do you get rid of one?"

"Seen Old Yeller? May sound cruel, but it's necessary," she said and I nodded. "If someone puts together two and two as to the true cause of the outbreak of blood borne diseases, guess what happens? So the plaguebearer's got to be found and put down. If the Camarilla really gives a damn, they'll help us out."

"Well, the Anarchs helped me out before. Where do I start?" I asked and I swear she smiled a bit before steeling herself with that scowl that seemed etched into her face.

"One of our boys' ghouls, name's Paul, lives nearby in the Skyline Apartments. Apartment 5A. Been a stranger the past few nights. Looked like death last time he was here. Said he didn't get bit, but maybe you can get more info out of him."

"I'll go check on him," I said. "Night's still young, after all." I started up the stairs, intent on finding Nines. The upstairs had a good dozen small tables littered around it. Two people stood against the walls. One was Nines, the other was a rough looking man smoking a cigar. The look in his eyes was one of pure hatred, and he watched me like a cat waiting to pounce on a mouse. I walked over to Nines, making sure to keep an eye on the other man.

"Yo, kid, you made it," Nines said, extending his hand in greeting. I took it, smiling at the older kindred, glad to finally meet someone who genuinely glad to see me for me.

"Glad to be here, Nines," I said then turned my head to watch the kindred in the corner and the hate he was sending my way. "What's with the stink eye in the corner?" Nines looked over his shoulder, then turned back to me.

"That's Jack," he said, chuckling a bit. "He's usually alright with newcomers, but he absolutely hates Lasombra. Think he had a run-in with one once in the Caribbean couple of centuries ago. But don't quote me on that."

"Nice to know we can make friends." I said, then dismissed him so I could concentrate on Nines.

"I figure you have a right to know the score," he said, getting to the heart of the matter. "The Camarilla? Here's the short of it. They operate a lot like a pyramid scheme. There's a bunch of these old timers at the top, with God only knows what plots in mind. But, if they lose their power, they die. So they Sired more to carry out their plans, and looking for a little power, those kindred sired for their own schemes and so on and on and on, it makes my head hurt just thinking about the mess. What it works out to is, only a few people at the top have any real power."

"Sounds like a pyramid scheme alright," I said, letting it sink in. "So what's Lacroix in this scheme?"

"Lacroix? Shit, he's just the man who wheeled and dealed to become king son of a bitch of the other local Camarilla. He's really just one step above the rest of us."

"Aren't you part of the Camarilla?" I asked and Nine face hardened fast.

"Them's fighting words newbie, but I know you don't mean anything bad with it so I won't make an example of ya," he said, smiling a bit to let me know he wasn't serious about the beat down. "See the Camarilla claims all Kindred as members even if we don't want to be, which is, of course, the biggest load of horsehit a man ever heard."

"So what about you?" I asked.

"I learned the way of this world during the depression," he said, and I settled in for a speech. What is it with old timers and speeches. "Bunch of old, rich bastards screwed the country. But did they suffer? No, the little people suffered. You can't trust the people at the top. The world'd be a better place without them.

"All you can do is get a group of people together who aren't assholes, find a place to put your feet up, and make examples of the quote-unquote elite to keep the rest the hell out. Everyone's an equal here, the same thing this country used to be about. That's what Los Angeles has been, an Anarch Free State."

"Anarch Free State?" I asked as I hadn't heard that term before either.

"The Camarilla was kicked out on their ass a long time ago," he said and I wondered why they hadn't kicked them out again. "We, the Anarchs, didn't want to play their politics anymore. Now Lacroix and crew pop in like they never left. Uh-Uh, no goddamn way! Their laws don't apply to us."

"Amen to that," I said, glad that there might be a group where I didn't have to fear losing my head. "I just want to go home to my friends, back to Samantha, but if I do..."

"Lacroix would call you in breach of the Masquerade, and kill you both," he finished for me. "See how they like to keep you down?"

"Thanks for laying it out for me, Nines," I said, genuinely glad for him laying it all out for me. "As long as the Prince doesn't make it too difficult, I'll help where I can," I said, extending my hand as I prepared to leave.

"Just remember, you get careless, that blood you got will make you into a monster. But you start rampaging you get put down. Two, don't kill when you feed, no reason to. In this city, there's lots of ways to slake the Beast without leaving a trail of dead.

"Three, the Camarilla is full of shit. Four, watch your back. And lastly, always be ready to fight, cuz a speech ain't gonna save your ass when you're staring down the barrel of a shotgun."

"I really do appreciate the help," I told him, sneaking one last look at Jack in the corner.

"LA's the school of hard knocks, so keep your friends close and your enemies in a barbecue pit. I got my eye on you kid," Nines told me, as I started for the door. I had things to take care of with a ghoul, and maybe find out about this plague that was supposed to be hitting LA.

I mused for awhile, as I hit the door to the street, and started for the corner and the phone booth. There, I learned where the Skyline Apartments were, by looking it up in the phone book and then finding the street in the maps on the front. Wasn't far from me, maybe six blocks. Figures that the ghoul wouldn't be far from his master.

I walked that way, keeping an eye out for a midnight snack. Since I was walking, it was far easier to see the men in HAZMAT suits as they looked for signs of contagions than it would be if I were in a car. I ducked down an alleyway, intent on keeping clear of them and their fancy equipment. I came out of the alley facing some sort of apartment building. There wasn't anything special about it at first, and I was about to dismiss it except for the eerie feeling I got from it. I looked it over again, then found one thing odd about it.

There was a purple glowing 'window' that was obviously supernatural in origin at the very peak of the building. That was odd in and of itself, but then I remembered a letter that I had gotten a few days ago. 'Come find me where burns the mystical sun.' That letter was from Strauss, and he wanted me to find him. Well, here he was.

I crossed the street, heading straight for the front door. Being an apartment building with no obvious lock out on the main door, I tried the knob to find it opened readily for me. Entering the building sent rivers of dread down my back, but I kept going. The main entryway was bare except for a staircase going up. It ended with a small landing and a door, so I figured that way was secure. The halls before me seemed open, but there wasn't anyone there to guide me.

I walked to a T-section, heading right. I didn't pass anyone, but after following the hallway for a bit, I found a small study area. I poked my head in, not seeing anything but a lone book on the coffee table. I picked it up and examined it. The binding was plain leather, with no name visible, but the first page listed it as 'Thaumaturgical Creatures.' Not knowing what that was, and with my curiosity getting the better of me, I slipped the book into my bag and left the study. I kept wandering the halls, eventually realizing that I was lost. I tried every door I came upon, but they were all locked.

I finally found a double set of red doors at a dead end. I tried the knob, and it turned freely. I opened the door on a larger study. A man in a red coat sat in a wingback chair that was also red. He was bald, and dressed in a nice suit with glasses perched on his nose. He set the book he was reading aside, then addressed me.

"Miss Flores, glad to see you've made your way here. I have been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time."

"Strauss, I presume?"

"Maximillian Strauss. I'm the Regent of this Chantry. Please, take a seat," he said. His voice was neutral, and he was very hard to read as I sat opposite him in an identical chair, placing my bag beside me.

"What is a chantry, exactly?"

"A chantry is a local gathering place for those of the Tremere clan. I live here, as do apprentices from time to time."

"And the regent is the leader of said chantry, I presume?" I asked him.

"You learn quickly," he said, a cold smile appearing on his stern face. "You would have made an excellent Tremere. A regent is also a teacher to the younger Tremere apprentices who are studying the mysteries of our clan."

I thought of the book I had stolen from the other study I had found. Mysteries, huh. "Can you tell me about the mysteries?"

"I'm sorry, neonate. The secrets of the Tremere clan are hidden from all but those who share our blood. You would do best not to look into them any further."

Bummer. "Well, what CAN you tell me?"

"Some advice, young one. Your survival in Kindred society will often depend on your ability to find out for yourself what is going on around you. Remember that well. As for what is going on in downtown LA, the word seems to be epidemic."

"That a kindred is spreading diseases through the kine?" I asked and his eyes shot up in surprise, finally breaking that perfect poker face of his.

"Again, you surprise me with how fast you learn," he said, relaxing his face back into it's neutral expression. "Yes, a kindred seems to be spreading a supernatural disease among the local kine at an alarming rate. Considering our particular," he said, pausing to choose his words carefully, "appetites, the local kindred are more than concerned about these developments."

"Interesting," I said, as I thought about it. A supernatural disease really only made sense on two fronts. Either the person was trying to kill all the humans through a disease which hasn't worked in the history of the world, or they were trying to oust the supernatural to the kine. The latter was more likely, but why?

"Yes, indeed," he continued. "My opinion is that the local anarchs are responsible for these outbreaks. Their precipitous indulgence of certain passions often lead to such things. Ergo, their need for the watchful eye of the Camarilla..."

I made my face as neutral as I could as I thought about it. The Anarchs thought the Camarilla was responsible, and vice versa. That didn't mean much, but it made it easier for a third and fourth option to come to mind. The Sabbat, or an independent party. "Maybe I could look into it for you," I said finally.

The Regent nodded his head in an agreeable manner. "An interesting proposition. If you succeed in finding the cause of this epidemic and putting an end to it, I will compensate you appropriately for your efforts."

I sighed, knowing the one thing I wanted more than money or favors. My frustration attracted the Regent's attention. "You wish something more?"

I nodded. "I never thought I'd miss it, but I wish I could see my reflection again."

"It might be possible," he said, as he studied me. "It might not work, but there should be something that can be done. I will research this, and if you are successful, we will attempt to restore your reflection as best we can. It might only be in a single mirror, but it should be possible."

"Then I shall see what I can do. I overheard the Anarchs discussing this same problem when I was at the Last Round earlier this evening. It seems there's a third party involved," I said, standing.

Strauss stayed seated, but he he gave a slight shake of his head, but I cut him off before he could say anything. "The Prince ordered me to pay a visit to the local Anarch population after meeting Nines on the street," I explained.

"What do you think of them?" he asked, again studying me.

"They seem to live up to their clan's reputation of rousing the rabble and are easily excitable," I said, thinking of Damsel the Den Mother. "Still, I've not seen enough of either ideas to form a clear idea of who might be right." I paused, as a thought came to me, and it made me frown. "History has shown before that there must be some sort of order to keep complete anarchy from taking control. Though they seem to eschew any leader besides Nines, and even he doesn't lead. He just does.

"On the other hand, the Camarilla currently seems to micromanage kindred's lives. I don't need someone telling me how to feed, or whom to feed from. I also don't need someone standing behind me ready to cut my head off at the slightest slip-up before I've had a chance to fix things. Again, as history shows, a too heavy handed leadership is just as bad as no leadership."

"You feel Lacroix is overly burdensome?" he asked, the question hanging between us.

"Yes, I do," I finally admitted. "I know you were probably at my trial, so you are aware of the circumstances of my new life, but how does one so callously kill? Even I'm not so low," I said, pausing myself before my temper ran away on me.

"Lacroix is a Ventrue, neonate, and prince on top of that. Even if he weren't as young and indiscriminate as he's already proven himself to be. I," he shook his head, looking down to avoid my gaze as he thought of something, or hid something from me. "But I say too much. Let us just that he and I have differing ideas on the use of power."

Trouble in paradise? "I don't suppose there is some sort of regulatory body that the prince has to answer to somewhere in the city?"

The Regent nodded. "They are called the Primogen, of which I am a member. There are currently seven in the city, one for each of the clans that comprise the Camarilla. Though at our last meeting, we briefly talked about adding an eighth, we have decided to table that for now."

That was surprising, and I quickly thought about who would be an eighth clan. "My clan, the Lasombra," I breathed as it hit me. I was the only new clan to enter the Camarilla recently, that I knew of anyway.

"Indeed. Our main concern is whether or not you have what it takes to survive. At the time of our meeting, you had only just survived your trial."

Of course, but now that I was proving myself capable who knew what would happen. Then he continued on, "At five in the morning, we intend to meet with him to discuss the current problems in the city. I would like for you to attend as well as we discuss adding you to the city's Primogen."

"It would be an honor," I said, as he stood as well. He was just a bit taller than me, but not stocky. I could see him being more bookish, as he had several studies that I'd seen so far. Maybe that was what the Tremere did, as he did just say that they study mysteries. I need more info on this clan.

"Than I shall see you at the tower, young one," he said, extending his hand to me. I took it, and we shook before I turned and headed for the door. Strauss stayed behind, and I left. Back in the maze that was the Chantry, I headed back out and promptly got lost again. Since I wasn't trying to get to anywhere but the front door, I didn't stop and try any doors but just kept to the hallways. Soon I was back at the front door, and left. The eerie feeling dissipated as I left, and feeling glad, headed down the sidewalk.

I couldn't help but think of Strauss' offer. To become a primogen seemed to be an important step into gaining some independence, even if that was all I gained, plus I would get the chance to meet the other primogen and maybe gain some useful contacts. I also couldn't help but think of what Strauss said about Lacroix. That he was too young and inexperienced to be prince. I couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that, though I knew it spoke volumes about the varying ways of leading. Maybe things under Strauss would be better than under Lacroix. One could hope.

I was almost to the apartments when I heard the loud techno music coming from a church. At least, it looked like a church on the outside. The gated fence read Confession. It was tempting to stop in, but I decided not to give in to my hunger. I had just fed hours before, and didn't need to feed again for a bit. Walking past, I found the apartment building and went in. The lobby was bare, though it did have an exercise room and pool, with an elevator at the front. I hit the button to call it down, and then went up to the fifth floor.

There was a short hallway that branched off into differing apartments, but 5A was just on my left. I tried the door, finding it locked and quickly used my lockpicks to get in. The lights were off, but my shadow vision kicked in, allowing me to see just fine. I was really starting to love that power, and I give the place a once over. The door was in the living room, with a couch facing an entertainment center beside the door. Behind that was a kitchen and dining room. Upstairs was probably the bedroom and bathroom. That's when I found Paul in the kitchen. Or at least I think it was Paul. It was a male corpse, in his early twenties, and there seemed to be nothing physically wrong, though as Damsel said, he looked like death with his pale skin. Almost kindred pale.

'Well, he's a dead end,' I thought, trying for a little snark to comfort myself with. I didn't have anything to go on, and knowing that the cops were bound to go over the place with a fine tooth comb, most likely, tried not to touch anything. The phone picked that moment to ring, startling me, and I fought the urge to answer it. Instead, the answering machine picked it up after four rings, and played the message as it recorded.

"Paul? It's Hannah, in 6D. Hope I didn't give you what I got. I feel like crap," she said, coughing wetly into the receiver. "I need to ask you a favor. Could you pick me up some cough medicine at the store," she asked, coughing into the phone again. "I hate to ask, but I can't seem to get out of bed. Passcode on my door is 1203.

"Hey, listen," she added, pausing again to cough, "I had a really good time the other night. Maybe we could do it again sometime? Sorry, I'm rambling. Okay, bye."

Well, that sounds like a place to go. I headed back out, leaving the door open a crack to invite someone in to find Paul, and took the elevator to the sixth floor. 6D had a steel door on it with a passcode lock instead of a traditional knob and key. I punched in the code, and it clicked open. The apartment here was like Paul's, but definitely felt warmer under a woman's touch. I went up to the darker second floor expecting the bed to be on the balcon. It wasn't, just an office with some potted plants, but the door to my right led to to a bedroom. I opened it, and my inverted vision kicked in and I saw Hannah laying on a queen sized bed, though she'd kicked the sheets off and lay in a tank top and loose shorts while her body was drenched in sweat.

"Paul?" she breathed, not really looking at me until I knelt beside her and put a hand tentatively to her forehead. She was burning hot, and I meant that literally. Her skin seemed to be on fire as I felt it and I yanked it back as quick as I would a burning stove.

"You're not Paul," she said weakly before breaking into another coughing fit. "Who are you?"

"I'm a doctor," I lied, pretending to look her over and take her pulse. "Your friend Paul called 911 and the CDC sent me out to check on him. He got your message and he sent me up to look at you."

"He did? That's so sweet," she said, turning her head to cough into her satin covered pillow. "He's such a nice guy. Is everything okay with him?"

"He could be doing better," I said, not really lying on that one. "You sound terrible, what have you got?"

"I don't really know," she said, barely able to turn her head away and cough again. "I-I've taken all kinds of medicine but nothing seems to help. I feel like I have a fever and a sore throat, and I feel real weak, can't seem to get out of bed."

"Sounds bad," I said, letting go of her wrist and her hand fell limply onto the bed. I hadn't heard of a case like this outside of advanced tuberculosis. Even then, Doc Holliday took years to advance this far while Hannah seems to have advanced here in a few weeks. "Do you know where you got it?"

"I think," she said, then started to throw up. I turned her body so she could clear her mouth of vomit, and then she continued. "One of my clients. I was feeling fine until, I uh, I saw her a few days ago," she said, coughing again.

I briefly thought about giving her my blood, but I couldn't help but think of Paul. He was a ghoul, and even he couldn't survive it. No, this was more likely engineered to take down a ghoul and kine alike and leave us kindred with no food source. Which made no sense. Who would want to take out our food source?

"Who was she," I asked, desperate to track her down. It didn't look like Hannah would last much longer, and I needed that answer before she died.

"She was just a woman who called. She, uh," she said, then puked again. It was hard to tell, but I was beginning to think it was blood. My inverted vision didn't do colors all that well, but it let me see the dark stain forming on the bed. "She found my ad in the newspaper. I usually only do business with referrals, you know, but she was offering a lot of money." I wiped her brow with a nearby cloth, hoping she hadn't just met the woman here. I needed to find her again.

"Did she give you a name?" I asked, wanting something to start with.

"Jezebel, Jezebel Locke," she said, her voice getting fainter, as if she were getting weaker, and not able to force the air out to make herself heard. "I'm usually not too good with names, but hers was so strange."

"Where did you meet her? Where is Jezebel Locke?" I demanded, knowing she was slipping away even as she talked to me. I needed that last piece of the puzzle.

"She had a room at the Empire Hotel," she said, coughing a few more times before turning her head to look at me. "Are you sure Paul's okay? He's not sick is he?"

I didn't have the heart to tell her Paul was dead. "Paul's just fine, Hannah. Don't worry about him."

"Good," she said, barely breathing the word out. "He's a nice guy. I hope he calls me again, sometime."

"I'm sure he will, Hannah," I said, holding her hand. I would have cried if I still could, as it broke my heart to listen to her fade away like that.

"I hope so," she breathed, her words barely audible in the still room. "I really do." I continued to hold her hand. My vampire senses, finely tuned to tell me about a victim's blood if I was near enough, picked up on her slowing heart. I couldn't help but think that she was someone's daughter, but that now, they'd never know what truly happened to their little girl.

We were monsters. We might pretty ourselves up, hide behind graces finely tuned over a hundred years and move with a grace no human could match, but we were supernatural predators who preyed on humanity. The fancy graces just made it easier to feed.

Hannah didn't deserve to die for our secrets. She was a sweet kid just trying to survive. Now someone had killed her because of us, and she deserved justice. As she began to spasm, I took the phone from where she had laid it on the nightstand and dialed 911, then laid it under her hand. I wanted her to be found before she began to rot in here. She didn't deserve this.

" _911 emergency, what is your location_?"

Leaning down, I breathed, "Help."

" _Help is on the way, ma'am. Do you require medical assistance?"_

Not wanting to implicate myself farther, I dropped the phone onto the floor hoping that whoever was on the other end took the hint. I walked silently out of the apartment, leaving the door open for whoever came. The shakes didn't set in until the elevator hit the ground floor. And it wasn't from crying.

No, I was mad. Jezebel Locke was a dead bitch walking.


	18. Chapter 18 - Killing Jezebel Locke

Chapter 18 – Killing Jezebel Locke

September 29, 2004 = Wednesday

I entered Empire Arms, no longer shaking but focused solely on finding Jezebel Locke. Since I didn't know what room she had I went over to the front desk to the desk clerk in a suit and tie. "I'm here for Jezebel Locke. I assume she's here?"

"Yes," he drawled. "She's one of our more popular guests."

"I need a key to her room," I asked, giving the man an intense eye.

"I'm sorry. But our policy..." Then I cut him off by grabbing him by the tie and nearly pulling him over the counter.

"If you don't give me a key to her room now, I'm going to use your tie to hang you with!" I hissed, trying to be quiet in case anyone was around.

"One, one moment," he stammered, scrambling backwards. I let him go, watching him as he went to a machine to punch in a code. He came back with a card bearing the name and logo of Empire Arms Hotel. I'd heard of these cards before. They'd unlock any electronic lock they were meant to unlock. Not very secure, but that's what mechanical locks were meant for.

"If anyone comes asking," I threatened, as I took the card, "I wasn't here." He started nodding emphatically, finally stammering, "Room five-nine-three." I left him there, going over to the elevator and heading for the fifth floor. I headed right, down the hallway, searching for her room. It didn't take a few doors before I found her room, and used the card to go in, unannounced.

A lean, long limbed red head in a deep v-necked top and leather pants was stretched out on the couch, reading. She looked up, making the move sensual even though there was nothing sensual about it. She closed the book, every move and act somehow evoking the longing of a lover's touch without trying as she set it aside.

"Well, look who we have here," she said, sex dripping off her voice. "Are you a believer, little morsel? Have you come for the kind of enlightenment only Jezebel can give?"

"I take it you're Jezebel Locke?"

"Yes, I am Jezebel," she said, running a hand down her lean body as she lay on the couch, her fingers catching the edges of her shirt to reveal a touch more skin as they passed over. "And I have such things to show you, such beautiful, dirty little things. Won't you come into my parlor?" Her hand finally found it's way to the promised land, but thoughts of Hannah and her death reminded me of why I was here. I shook my head, snarling at the lapse as her Presence literally had me feeling her desires of love and lust.

"Yeah," I said, pulling myself together and shoving the lust out of my body, "and death's coming with me."

Jezebel got off her couch, pulling a large hunting knife from behind her. "Oh, you cannot escape me. One way or another, you and I will intertwine our beings on the way into the Ninth Circle, and I will send you forth, full of the sweet sickness I carry."

I yanked on the shadows, a tentacle forming at her feet. "For Hannah, you bitch!" I yelled, and the tentacle began to wrap around her leg, and then suddenly she wasn't there, but plunging her knife into my open stomach right in front of me. The sharp blade stinging my insides, and not in a good way. I then staggered a bit as she tried to wrench my insides apart, hitting the light switch. The lights went out, and I used my potence ability to throw Jezebel across the room as my vision switched over to shadows. Jezebel recovered, and she cast around trying to find where she was. I smiled, realization that I had the upper hand flooding me. I then began moving on my tiptoes, sneaking around to pounce her from behind. Jezebel began moving forward, trying to find her way to the light switch, moving right past me in the darkness.

I waited till I had moved directly behind her, then jumped on her back and wrapped an arm around her neck, my other arm struggling to keep her from bringing the knife to bear on me and make her stab herself. It didn't work as well as I intended, and Jezebel lost her footing as our combined weight broke one of her heels and sent us both tumbling on the floor. The jar of hitting the floor knocked me from her back, and she quickly pounced me. I managed to get both hands on the one that had the knife, but even my potence fueled strength in both arms barely kept her from stabbing me. Desperate, I called for the shadows, and felt them envelope us.

Maybe it was because of my sight, but I could still see Jezebel on top of me. Her features quickly twisted into horror and she began to pull away. Fearing the knife, I kept hold of her even as she began to scream. She flailed, trying to get away, even dropping the knife. Without the knife I let her go and snatched for it to find it missing. I rolled over, searching for it, but couldn't find it. Then I became conscious of the Void. My sight illuminated the inkiness around me, making it look somewhat like the bottom of a pool the way the darkness shimmered with pure blackness. I couldn't see anyone, but I knew there was something else in here, dark swirling wraiths and then I was back in the motel room, the knife beside. I snatched it, and began looking for Jezebel, finding her curled up in a corner, arms wrapped around herself. I waited for the attack that didn't come, and I realized she was scared and mumbling, "don't hurt me," over and over again.

I cautiously made my way up to her, and she didn't even react to me. Taking her big knife, I used my potence to lift the redhead and quickly buried the blade in her neck. She reacted by exploding, probably from pain, and with a wrench of the blade separated her head from her shoulders. She immediately incinerated, and crumpled into ash, the near burning material pouring over my hand to form a pool of ash on the floor. With her dead, I thought back on what I'd seen when my shadows had enveloped us. There was something in their all right, and it scared her. Now I was curious as to what was in there, and resolved to look again when I could.

With her death, I looked myself over. The blade wound to my stomach had bled a little, but wasn't all that noticeable. I went into the bathroom, and used a washcloth to wipe the blood off my wounded stomach. I also used the cloth to clean the ash off my leather pants and black leather shoes. I didn't want to leave until my wound cleared, so I began to rummage through Jezebel's clothes. Most of her clothes were actually my size, according to the tags, but I think they were smaller. Why can't they get just one size chart for all companies?

I did find a dress that I liked. It was a royal blue evening gown with crystal beads and sequins all over the bodice which crossed in the back, leaving it open for an off the shoulder halter top look. I really liked it, and laid it out on the bed. I had several hours before my meeting with the primogen at the prince's office, so I decided to change into something a little more appropriate. Might as well, not like pile of ash over there was going to need it. In fact, she wouldn't need anything in this room at all.

I looked around, finding her large travel case tucked under the bed. I pulled it out, and opened it. I then started to undress, putting all my clothes into the travel case. Once I was stripped, I slipped the dress on, the whole thing was chiffon, and felt great against my skin. I also found her shoe collection, which I'm guessing was just her travel edition. They were a half size large than me, and I pulled out and slipped on a set of three inch royal blues sequin pumps that were meant to compliment my dress. The dress now just barely skimmed the floor, which was a perfect height.

With the last addition to my personal wardrobe, I started to pull the various clothes from the closet and place them in the large travel case. I also stole the shoes, placing them in the case. I started to go through the rest of the room, and found her jewelry case hidden in the dresser. The jewelry was exquisite, and was probably real. I didn't know how to tell, never having seen any real diamonds in my life, but the way most of it sparkled made me think it was real. I slipped on a large diamond bracelet, and then put on a set of diamond stud earrings. I wondered if I should do anything with my hair, as it hung straight down my back. Deciding that there was nothing I could do without help, I packed up the jewelry box into my travel case.

I went over the room one more time, looking for anything I might need. I didn't really like stealing, but there was no sense in all this going to waste. Plus, with no body, people would just think Jezebel had left, leaving a few things behind as she fled furious wives or police authorities. Which wasn't far from the truth, not that they'd ever learn that.

My second run through the apartment turned up a small bundle of cash, probably what she used to pay the hookers and escorts with. Not that they'd be able to turn away from her presence ability, but they had to be paid eventually. I counted it out, just over four grand, and stashed it in my bag.

Feeling I had everything, I closed up the suitcase and set it on its wheels. I stopped to inspect the pile of ash that was Jezebel when I got to the door. There was nothing left of her, the ash looking like a pile of burnt coals. If I didn't know any better, I'd say someone cleaned out a hibachi grill and dumped it on the carpet. Well, you break the masquerade, you pay the price. Besides, I needed to tell Scourge Walsh about cleaning up his messes.

I opened the door, leaving the key I'd been given by the TV, and left. With anything I was holding blind to the cameras as long as I held on to it, I kept the travel case rolling behind me by the handle. No one paid me any attention, even as I left in the middle of the night, using my free hand to keep my skirt off the pavement. I walked straight back to the Last Round, to check in with Damsel about the plaguebearer.

I was almost back before a Hispanic man stepped out of the alley, making me sigh as he pointed a large caliber gun at me. There was a time that this might make me scared. Now it was just an inconvenience.

"Hey, chica," he said, smiling lasciviously at me. "Whatcha doin' with all that ice?"

"Going to a party to which you are not invited, swine," I growled back. I didn't want this nice dress ruined before my meeting.

"How about you slip into this alley, give me everything you got, and I let you walk away with a boatload of sailors?"

I groaned at his remark, but turned and walked into the alley, dragging my case behind me. I could feel my beast want to rip his throat out, and I was halfway to letting it out, but to do so would make me the monster. And I couldn't use any of my overt powers to get out of this, or the prince would still call me in breach of the masquerade, myself. With few options, I decided to draw on my presence, and give it a stretch. Once we were well within the alley and around the corner, he stopped me. "This is far enough. Now, strip it all off chica."

I turned, and forced a smile on my lips. Hoping I was doing this right, I began pushing feelings like lust towards him. He began to smile, the gun lowering a bit. I let go the case, and raised the hem of my skirt. The chico was almost close enough now for me to grab him, and I leaned over, the degrading move causing the guy to get right behind me. I let myself rise up, as he put his hands on my hips. He didn't even sense anything wrong as I got my mouth close enough to breathe on his ear. Remembering what Damsel said about not caring about whom you feed from, I wrapped an arm around his head.

He didn't know how screwed he was until I used my potence to flip him over my head from behind me. He hit the ground in front of me hard, knocking the air from him. I then used my heel to press into his neck.

"Listen idiota," I said, so aggravated with the jerk I was mixing my Spanish with English. "Drop the pistol and run for madre, or I put my talones through your neck. Comprende?"

"Comprendo," he breathed, dropping the pistol. I let him up, and he scrambled out of the alley. I reached down and picked up his pistol. I didn't know much about it, except that it wasn't anything like the .38 I already carried. This one was one of those little black self-reloading numbers cops used. I looked for the safety, and accidentally dropped the bullets out of the handle. I picked them up, stashing them in my bag, then pulled the top part back like i'd seen them do in movies to reload it, causing one more to fly out the top. With no other bullets in it, I pulled the trigger, and it went click.

Putting it all in my bag to have Brian explain later, I grabbed my travel case and headed back to the Last Round. The chico who'd tried to rob me was nowhere in sight, and I let out a sigh of relief. I wasn't afraid of dying, as having already done it once it no longer scared me. I was more afraid of what else he had planned. I didn't want my body violated by a man again, and it was making rethink my situation. I never viewed women as potential partners before, but I was starting to wonder. If I no longer liked guys, should I rethink my views on women?

Soon I was at the Last Round, and entered through the front door, taking my case with me. Damsel was seated at a corner table, head down as she looked at some kind of paperwork. She looked up, still scowling, but quickly waved me over.

"Cammy," she said when as I sat next to her. "Are you heading to a fashion expo or are you going on a date?"

"I have a meeting with the Prince and the primogen at five. Saw some things in the plaguebearer's motel room I liked, so I took them after cutting her head off."

"Righteous," she said, actually smiling. "So are you going to do your hair and makeup before you go? Or are you just going to rough it?"

I sighed, wishing I had a reflection. It would make my nights so much easier. "I guess I'll rough it. I can't see myself in a mirror to do it myself, so I figure to just do a rough braid before I meet everyone."

Damsel scowled, shaking her head. "Cammie," she started, then got up. "Just wait right here, alright? You're an embarrassment." She left out the back door, and I briefly wondered what she had that would help. She came back a moment later with a large box. She sat it in a chair and opened it up, revealing all sorts of makeup supplies. I didn't even get much of a chance to speak before she pulled out a hair pick. "Just sit your ass still, cammie. I'll make a decent woman out of ya."

"Why all the makeup?" I asked, sitting with my back and shoulders straight as Damsel picked the tangles out of my hair. She was a little rough, but then most stylists were with a customer.

"I carry it so I don't look like a schmo when I go see my sire," she said, tossing the pick back in the box. She pulled out a think black box, and sat it on the table in front of me and opened it up. As I figured, my reflection wasn't there in the boxes mirror, and Damsel looked at it. "Huh, you really don't have a reflection. I thought that was just a myth."

"No, it's a clan thing. Like Brujah seem to be rabble rousers and idealists."

"Yeah, well, I seen them do good things with their ideals, Cammie. Wait till you see Michele Riviere, the Toreador primogen. She always looks like she came off a runway." Damsel then began brushing out my hair, and I was left to ponder what she said about Riviere, and really just glad she was helping me to look my best. Then it hit me.

"Damsel, what clan are you?"

"Toreador, Cammie," she said flatly, placing the brush on the table. "How do you want your hair? As fancy as I can get? Or do you want it in a bun?"

Toreador? "What do you suggest?" I asked, trying to figure her out.

"I'd go with a full French braid, myself. It's classy, and would really work with your long hair. My sire would have loved you. He was always into pretty women. Fad of the month. That bastard ruined a lot of girls lives though, including mine."

"Where is he?" I asked, as she began to sort my hair into strands.

"Beverly Hills. Sometimes I go see him, to listen to him speak. He doesn't realize the art he can make with his words, but he'd flip if I showed up like this. So, I keep the kit handy and a dress in the backroom in case I just have to go scratch that itch."

"Cool," I said, as Damsel worked on my hair. She worked carefully, and I could tell by the tugs that she wasn't using large strands of hair to make my french braid with, but much smaller strands that would look extravagant. Damsel really wanted me to look good. Once she had the braid itself started, it didn't take her long to finish the braid. She tied it off with a rubber band, then started pulling out more makeup. She had me turn to face her, so could redo my makeup.

"So, who did your makeup for you. I know you can't see to do it yourself," Damsel asked me as she used some kind of wet rag to remove Constance's work.

"Um, a girl I picked up. She was a runaway and I'm giving her a place to stay if she'll do my makeup. I, uh, also drink her blood before I leave home."

"Oh, started your herd already. That's good," she said, as she started to apply the base. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you knew exactly what you were doing."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, you got a herd started, already. That's important in this life. You can't just feed from anybody, otherwise you end up with a disease that you pass from victim to victim."

"True," I said, being careful to not move.

"Got any ghouls yet?"

"Four," I said, again being careful to only speak when she wasn't brushing makeup on my face.

"Wow, where'd you get them?" she asked, as she started to change out what she had on the table.

"Poe was my first. I found her dying in an emergency room from critical injuries. Brian, he was a thug I spared getting the astrolite to blow that warehouse. I use him for a bodyguard, so I don't get found and carried into the light during the day. Sharron is my third, she's a stripper at a lounge in Santa Monica. And Angel found me after Sharron stole all her customers demanding whatever I gave Sharron. Both Sharron and Angel are currently paying me, thinking my blood is just a drug you drink because I give it to them in vials. This next time though, I'll have them drink directly from me."

"How much you got?"

"Um, maybe eight grand?"

Damsel spun real fast to face me. "Eight grand? You're what? Five nights old? You sure you're not Ventrue?"

"Not unless Ventrue can summon and mold shadows. Something only Lasombra can do, or so I'm told."

Damsel regarded me with a sense of awe. "Cammie, you're racking up points here like no ones business. Do you have your own haven yet?"

"A home? No, not yet," I said, as Damsel began to apply nail polish. She had chosen a glimmering blue to compliment my dress and jewelry, and began to apply it. "Brian seems to be on the run from the law, and I've not taken direct control of Sharron and Angel, nor do I really intend to. Poe," I said, pausing. "I lost her when she was moved out of the emergency room and taken elsewhere. There's no telling where she is, and I don't really have the time to hunt her down."

"She'll turn back up Cammie," she said, moving to the other hand. "So, all the basics of living your own life, all on your own, with no one telling you what to do? Sounds like you've got this thing nailed."

"Just as soon as I can get the Prince off my back, I'm gone," I said, admiring the beautiful job Damsel had done.

"What are you going to do then?"

"I don't know. I just don't like these political games. Nines, I like him and if he needs me, I'll probably be there backing him up."

Damsel looked at me, as she finished my other hand. "Really? You're not in tight with Lacroix? Because that's what it looks like."

"If it wasn't for this boon, I wouldn't have went out to that ship where everyone was slaughtered."

Damsel just nodded, putting her makeup kit away. "So, what's your meeting with the primogen about?"

"Strauss wants to add me to the council so I can represent the Lasombra clan."

"Strauss? The Tremere mage? Cammie, you can't trust him. And don't ever drink any blood in their chantry! Ever!" She yelled, emphasizing her point.

"Why?"

"The Tremere practice blood magic. They call it thaumaturgy, but it can do some really messed up things to people," she said, placing the kit on the floor and sitting beside me. "I've seen them blow kindred up just by willing it."

"That's insane," I said, horrified at how powerful they were.

"Word is, they drink the blood of some elder council. It binds them all to one cause, and they don't have any problems tricking other kindred into serving them."

"What else should I know before I meet the primogen?"

"Let me give you a rundown of some of the clans you'll meet. Brujah, yeah, they get a bad rap for fighting. But it's not all unearned. They do fight for their ideals. Mostly they want freedom, to build a utopia, but they've never agreed on it. Ask some of the guys what they think it is, you'll never get them to agree. Useful if you need to distract them.

"Toreadors. We're artists, but like utopia for Brujah, we can't agree on what's art. My sire thinks it's beautiful women. I prefer a good speech. Some like Riviere, she prefers paintings. If you ever see one staring at something, block their view. It'll pull them out of their reverie, or you can distract them with it."

"Interesting," I said.

"Also, you can usually spot the ones that interested in beauty, because they tend to get touchy-feely. Literally. My sire can get roaming hands bad if he's interested.

"Gangrel. They don't tend to like city life much, but the ones that do, treat it like a concrete jungle. They are hunters, and they can command the beast within you if they are strong enough.

"Malkavians are nuts. They have this inner voice, and it can be eerily accurate about the future, the past and the present. That's IF you can figure out what they're talking about."

"I met one in Santa Monica. Therese and Jeannette? They are one person, but they think they're separate people."

"Crazy, Cammie. After them you got the Nosferatu. They're the information brokers. If you really need to know something, you go to them. They can be horrible looking, but they know what they're doing.

"The Tremere are one of the creepiest groups I've ever met. Don't ever trust one, ever. The things they can do with blood are legend. And finally there are the Ventrue. They are money, Cammie, and power. They love to make others twist to their will, and they have the ability to make you do what they say. Again, literally."

"So what about us? What are our weaknesses?"

"Sunlight. Every sunrise you will sleep. You can sometimes stay up an hour or so past sunrise but you will still pass out. You can't beat it. In time, you will start waking up before sunset. So be careful. Okay?"

"Alright," I said, wondering if my nails were dry.

"So, your body. Well, kiss dandruff goodbye, thank god. You can still get lice though, as it's a bug. You can't get sick, but you can carry diseases. Oh, and crosses are mostly harmless. Mostly. Heard tale of one kindred who met a hunter with real faith. The cross he carried kept her from being able to attack him, and eventually he forced her into a corner. Unable to flee, or attack, he pushed forward. Eventually, his faith alone destroyed her.

"Most of the other stuff, garlic, running water, body odor," she paused, sighing, "none of that affects us. Your senses are getting sharper. In another week or so, you'll be able to start smelling things at a distance, see better than you ever could, and hear a lot better.

"You've probably already noticed the differences in blood. Don't ask me why, but the better cultured a person is, the more class they have, the better their blood tastes. A bum or a hooker will taste bland, while biting into a doctor is like pure nectar."

"And one well on their way to become a doctor is like honey?"

"Yeah, I guess. Never bit a student so I wouldn't know."

"Hmm." Wow, Constance really needed to stay in school then. I finally worked up the courage to test my nail polish and found it was nice and dry.

"Hey, if you want, you can leave your baggage here, I'll watch it till you get back," Damsel said.

I looked at the wall clock. It was close to four, and figured that by the time I caught a taxi to the tower, it'd be about time. "Sure, I'll swing by after the meeting and get everything before I head home," I said, carefully swinging my messenger bag onto my shoulder.

"I'll be waiting," she said, as I walked to the door, once again keeping my skirt from touching the floor as I headed for the door. I turned and waved to Damsel as I walked out the door, and she smiled and waved back. I had a friend, someone I could count on to help me understand things that were beyond me. That was important to me. Now why did I have this sudden desire to see her all dressed up?

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Big thanks to Noone297 on FanFiction for the idea on making Damsel a Toreador. It was his idea, and I just had the idea on how to run with it. So if you don't like it, don't blame it all on me.


	19. Chapter 19 - Meeting the Primogen

Chapter 19 – Meeting the Primogen

September 29, 2004 = Wednesday

The taxi was actually very prompt, needing only a few minutes to pick me up, and soon had me at Lacroix tower. I wasn't paying much attention, and was surprised when a redhead in a yellow t-shirt and glasses walked up to me, physically blocking my path.

"Hey," she shouted, smiling as I stopped to avoid ramming into her. "I know this might seem creepy and all, but please don't blow me off. Somehow I knew I could find you here, I mean, I've been looking all over for you since I got out of the hospital, because I wanted to, uh, I'm in your debt. I owe you my life, and I feel like I need to repay you."

Recognition lit through my brain. Poe had finally found me. "Nice to see you again Poe."

The redhead blushed at that. "It's Heather, please. I'm not weirding you out, or anything, am I?"

"That's hard to do lately," I said, smiling back at her. She was as tall as me, though without the heels in her plain sneakers and blue jeans, but she was beautiful, in her own way. "You look much better, I'm glad to see it."

"Only because of you, and what you did for me," she said, again that sheepish nature of hers making her blush, running a hand through the hair over her ear nervously. "Here, I got you this," she said, handing me a ring box. I took it, finding a gold ring inside. Actually that was an understatement. The setting was like nothing I'd ever seen before. There was a gold ring, but on top, instead of a diamond setting, or other precious stone, there was an arrangement of rubies set in gold to simulate a rose. It was beautiful, and I carefully took it out of the box and slipped it on my left hand to help balance out my jewelry. I had my bracelet on the right, and earrings in both ears, but nothing on my left.

"I thought you might like it," she continued, as I continued to examine the new ring. "I can be useful to you, I'd do anything," she paused, wrapping her arms around her middle as she looked at the ground. "Just tell me you'll let me help you, let me stay with you. Make me feel this way."

That last line snapped my head up, even though Heather wasn't looking at me. Was she in love with me? O-kay, that was a new one. Brian never mentioned any feelings like that, so I wondered briefly if it were feelings of love, or if it were associated with her being my ghoul. I'd have to wonder about that later, though, as I wanted to get inside and meet with Strauss before I met the rest of the primogen. "Of course, Heather," I said, wrapping an arm around the sheepish woman. "I'd love for you to stay with me. I'm trying to find a new place right now, so it might get a little cramped in my one room apartment."

"Yeah," she said, leaning into me and putting her own arm around me. "I went by earlier. You're really loud when you do it, you know?

I shook my head, thinking Brian must've gotten lucky when Angel came back for her fix and her gun. "That wasn't me, and Brian isn't my boyfriend. That's one of the reasons I want a bigger place. One that can fit us all."

"Really?" she exclaimed, hugging me tight enough that a foot came off the pavement. "I promise you won't regret it! Promise! I'll get you money, things...everything! I want to be important to you. I can even make you dresses like that if you want. I went to college to study fashion design, so I can make you stunning clothes like that without having to buy from an overrated line."

This was getting better and better. "Just tell Brian you're to wait on me, and that I'll be back at sunrise."

Heather released me, beaming as she smiled from ear to ear. "I'll wait for you at your place then. And when you do come back, I'll take care of whatever you want."

"I'm looking forward to it Heather," I said, as Heather began bopping down the sidewalk. Well, at least she was now accounted for, so I could get that off my mind. I walked inside and groaned. That overweight guard was sitting behind the front desk as if it were his personal mission to ruin my nights.

"Evening, missy," he said as I approached. "You here to see Mister Lacroix again?"

"Yes, I am," I replied, as I looked at my dress to make sure it was still perfect.

"Yea, he told me to send you up as soon as you came in. Lotsa people here to see him. Nice guy, seems a little different though. But that's his business."

"Well, I'd stay and chat, but I have reports to file, Chunk" I said, reading his name tag for a name, before I headed around the reception area to the elevators. The elevator was waiting when I got there, and I headed up to the upper floors. Stepping out into the Camarilla headquarters, Scourge Walsh glanced towards me before quickly stepping over to greet me.

"Greetings, miss," he said, bowing slightly in front of me. "Are you here to announce yourself to the prince?"

"No, but I do have his report on what happened at the Dane," I said, enjoying the fact that I was dolled up enough to not be entirely recognizable. Watching his face as he realized who I was was interesting. The shock value alone was worth it.

"Miss Flores? I must say you surprise me with your transformation, and such finery. I wouldn't think you would have invested in this for some time."

"I acquired this after clearing out a masquerade breaker's hotel room. She was spreading a supernatural disease and attracting attention."

He looked concerned at that. "Supernatural?"

"It can kill a ghoul," I informed him.

"This is, not good," he said, his face showing the worry he felt. "I thought it was just a normal disease, and you say it can kill a ghoul? Do you have proof?"

"Ghoul's name was Paul, lived in Skyline Apartments. I don't know who his master is, an Anarch I think, but he succumbed to his death before the person who infected him did. I tracked it back to a Jezebel Locke, who was staying at Empire Arms Hotel. After I killed her, I took everything she had, this was part of it."

"Thank you," he said. He seemed hesitant, then continued. "As compensation for dealing with this serious threat to the masquerade, I'll make sure you receive a large bonus for handling the situation, as well as keeping her pilfered belongings. I honestly did not think you would be so beneficial so soon. Have you found a place to stay yet?"

"No, I'd thought about sending my ghouls out to do some house hunting in the morning. We're getting too cramped in the apartment."

"How much do you have to start your loan with?"

"I can put five grand on the down payment with no problem. Though if I need to, I can use up to eight grand," I told him, and he spun to face me.

"Eight grand? What did you do? Rob a bank?!"

"Just my normal day to day running," I told him, though something in me sang at seeing him slack jawed.

"Eight grand?" he said, leaning against the wall, his eyes glassed over as he thought about it. "It took me over a year to earn eight grand. At least that was in 1861, we did have a war on."

"The Civil War?" I asked, and he nodded and added, "Back when a nickel bought an entire meal, and a man's wages wasn't five dollars for a month. He makes that now in an hour."

"Time flies, huh?" I snarked, as the man composed himself.

"Use your wealth, wisely, young one. A time will come when your wealth will be one of the few things you have. When you leave your meeting with the prince and the primogen, my ghoul will be waiting for you. She'll have a packet listing some of the homes I have available in the LA area for sale and lease, along with cars and other services the I can offer."

"Thank you," I said, as he led the way to where our presumed meeting was to take place. He opened a door allowing me through before shutting it, and inside were six people. Strauss was the only one I recognized as he stood talking with a well dressed man in a suit. A gorgeous woman in a gold sequined dress with her hair up stood to the side, her eyes staring at a large painting on the wall. It was of a forested mountain looming over a beautiful lake, and looked good enough to be real.

On the other side, three men stood talking, one looking like a heartthrob from the thirties in a tuxedo. The other men were much rougher, the one on my left had blonde hair and was dressed like a biker sans shirt, chains hanging from his belt to loop around his back. The other seemed hunched over in his dirt caked jeans and denim coat, with yellow animal-like eyes that seemed to bore through me. His hair seemed to be matted, and he was by far the dirtiest one in the room.

"Ah, Miss Flores," Strauss said, coming to talk to me, bringing the man he was talking to with him. Strauss was dressed in a crimson vest while the other man was dressed in nice suit with some kind of neckerchief around his collar, and his shoes were mirror finished black leather. "This is the Ventrue primogen, Herr Mueller."

"Guten tag, Herr Mueller," I said, extending my hand and trying to remember as much German as I could while hoping he wasn't Swedish.

"Gute nacht, fraulein," he said with a thick German accent, taking my hand in his and kissing it like a gentleman of old. "I see you have been busy these past few nights."

"Miss Flores has done well, considering she was only Sired a few nights ago and left alone on her own without aid," Strauss said, coming to my aide.

"Indeed," he said as he seemed to look me over without moving his eyes from mine. I couldn't help but feel as if I were being weighed and measured in that moment. In embarrassment, I looked away, my eyes going back to the woman looking at the painting. She hadn't moved at all, though the rest of the room seemed to have noticed me by now. Remembering what Damsel told me about Toreadors becoming enthralled by beauty, I walked over to her. She never noticed me at all, and I raised my braceleted wrist to block her view. I thought at first she wasn't going to come out of her enthrallment, when she raised her hands to grab my wrist, as she twisted it in the light.

"Moissanite," she whispered, her accent hinting at French as she examined it carefully. "I would say Grace has done herself proud with this."

"Thank you," I said, as she released my wrist, before she looked me over. I was trying to figure out what she meant, but it was beyond me. "Moissanite is a fake diamond, I take it?"

"Yes, but it has a very colorful sparkle. It's usually the best substitute for the real thing, and Sheila does wonders with it. You simply must stop by her store sometime. It is Forever Finery, on Rodeo Drive," she purred, before noticing my ring. "Oh, how lovely," she gasped, and I raised it so she could see it. She again took my hand, twisting it so she could see it in the light. "That, at least, is a real ruby. But the gold is tainted. Fourteen karat at most."

"I wish I were better at identifying the knock-offs from the real thing," I intimated, even as she continued to fawn over my ring.

"Do not worry yourself so much with it. Last time I went shopping for diamonds, I could not find a real one in the entire store, and the gold was all plated," she said, shaking her head lightly so as not disturb her hair, as she lowered my hand and wrapped an arm around me. I'd get offended by the personal invasion, but, as Damsel said, it was just the Toreador way.

With her arm around me, she led me to the kindred in a tux, the biker, and the man desperately in need of a bath. Even Michele wrinkled her nose at the odor. "Dusty, are you ever going to rid us of your odiferous aroma?" she chastised the kindred.

"Then I wouldn't be Dusty the Bold anymore, would I?" he retorted. I'd personally settle for a little less stench, but as I was now close close enough to get a good look at him, I realized his hair was different. It looked like it had been greased, but it lacked the shiny nature associated with it. I could also tell this close that the hair seemed thicker on his arms than normal, but I wondered if it were an old kindred male thing, or maybe something associated with his clan. The hunch look also became apparent, as it was a hump between his shoulder blades. What was he turning into? A grizzly?

"No," said blonde biker next to him. "You'd be more bearable to be around," he said, laughing.

"Always with the bear jokes," Dusty grumbled.

"Well, it helps that you resemble one so much," biker replied, still laughing.

"Boys," Michele interceded, trying to stop the fight before it could begin, because even I saw Dusty's fingers turn into claws. "This is Eliza Flores, the one Strauss wants to add to our council to represent the Lasombra now that we have one in our city."

"Lasombra," the tuxedo clad man said, his voice deep and dripping with sex like honey. "It's not unusual to see their antitribu in the Camarilla. What is unusual is to see them last."

"It's becoming more common to see them, as things in the Sabbat fall apart," biker boy stated. "Heard there's some sort of problem their having with the Tzmisce. And you do know one is prince of Washington DC, now."

"That's propaganda," tuxedo said, "Don't believe everything you hear Scott. We Nosferatu have been spreading those rumors for years."

"Speaking of rumors, Gary," Michele interjected, stopping another argument from forming, "Have you heard whether or not Isaac managed to acquire a new actress for his recent project?"

"Not yet, cupcake. Though to be honest, he hasn't been hosting any casting calls recently," Gary replied, as he opened a nearby cabinet door to reveal rows of blood packs. "Tell me, Miss Flores, are you hungry?"

"I could use a good neck to bite," I stated, earning a smile from Dusty, and a guffaw from Scott, the biker. Even Michele seemed to vibrate as she snickered.

"Sorry, we quit keeping kine around for drinking purposes the better part of a century ago," Gary said, as he retrieved several bags and distributed them to the group.

"Drink up, kid," Scott said, smiling as he took his. "Lacroix goes all out. If I'm not mistaken, it's virgin."

"Scott!" Michele exclaimed in mock protest, and I could tell it was mock as she was laughing so hard she really was vibrating, and it made me feel loved. They were joking with me, making me part of the group.

"What? Eighteen is a good year for virgins," he said, biting on a corner and deflating the bag as he sipped it clear. "Ooh, it goes down so nice." Michele sipped hers, and Gary quickly pulled a second for himself, putting one in his tuxedo jacket.

"For keeping up appearances, fledgling," he said, as he and Dusty sipped on theirs. I looked at it again, wondering what the trick was then figured I'd try to snag it with a fang. Extending my fangs, I slipped the plastic into my mouth and bit lightly, and I could feel my teeth pierce the plastic. Then I began sipping the blood out, and it was heaven as it went down my throat. Only Dusty seemed to be disappointed.

"Eighteen is good, but I miss the thirteen," he said, grimacing at something unpleasant only he could see as he drank his.

"It became socially unacceptable, Dusty," Michele offered, looking sadly down at her expensive shoes.

To soften the mood, I decided to ask Gary a question. "Why do you need it for keeping up appearances?"

"I'm a Nosferatu. You've met Tung in Santa Monica, and all the Nosferatu are similar in appearance to him."

"In exchange for him assuming a pleasing appearance, the Prince provides us all with blood. It works best for everyone, especially Gary."

"Rat gets old after the first thousand," he said smiling, and Michele shivered. "That's another thing that's not 'socially acceptable.'"

Before things could resume, the doors opened and the prince entered, the exceedingly tall sheriff right behind him as always. With his arrival, everyone went to take seats. Michele led me over to where Strauss and Herr Mueller sat, while Dusty, Scott, and Gary took the other side. Then the prince took up a small silver striker, and rang the shiny golden bell on the table.

"As prince, I call this meeting to order," he said, taking his seat at the head of the table.

"We are short one person," Michele said, her eyes going across from us to the empty seat.

"Has anyone heard from Doctor Grout?" the prince asked the group at large.

"Nein," Herr Mueller said from where he sat by the prince. "Though he was acting odd at our last meeting."

"Maybe he's finally went insane after a hundred years," Scott said.

"Or maybe something else has happened. But what could go after an ancillae Malkavian?" Michele offered.

"I'll send an agent tomorrow night to check on him. Will that be satisfactory?" Prince Lacroix asked the group.

"That would be helpful," Strauss said. "They can then report to you and we will discuss this topic again at our next meeting."

"Which brings us to the matter at hand. I understand that you wish to add a Lasombra representative to the council?"

"As a recognized member of the Camarilla, and a clan currently unrepresented by those present, I feel she does have the right to have her clan's say in these matters," Strauss argued to the group.

"But it's just her," Scott argued back. "There's no clan yet."

"I must second the Brujah representative," Herr Mueller stated. "One person does not a clan make."

"All those in favor?" the prince asked. Michele, Strauss and Dusty raised their hands. "Those opposed?" Gary, Herr Mueller and Scott raised theirs. "As we seem to be tied, and under rules granted and approved by this council previously, I will vote to break the tie. My vote is no. This is not any reflection against you, neonate. But as Primogen Scott and Herr Mueller pointed out, there's no clan to represent, and one person does not a clan make. Maybe once you reach say, five Lasombra, through either embrace or immigration, we will revisit this matter.

"Now, to further speed along your night, and to streamline matters. Why don't you present us with your findings on the Elizabeth Dane?"

I nodded to him, and stood, going over to my bag to get the reports and documents I had acquired. "According to the report I read on the way here, the fate of the crew has been decided. They were slaughtered aboard the ship. The walls in some areas were painted with blood. Bloody handprints on the sarcophagus itself indicate it was opened at some point from within."

"Within?" Michele whispered, and repeated by everyone at the table.

"Let's not get over-excited over nothing. Leave the reports on the table, and I'll look over them later. As you are becoming indispensable to me at the moment, and as you are so wont to prove yourself, head to Grout's mansion in San Bernardino. Pry him out from whatever rock he's hidden himself under then, check back with me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," I said, pulling the reports and everything he'd need and placed them on the table. It significantly reduced my load, and I hung my bag over my nearly bare shoulder. I left the room to find a woman in a dark gray blazer with light pink shirt. She held a professional leather binder, that was about three inches thick.

"Miss Flores?" she asked, as I came close to where she stood.

"Yes?" I asked, figuring this was Walsh's ghoul.

"My master wishes you to have this binder. I just updated it, as we have recently acquired several properties in the Ontario area, and one in Beverly Hills. Half of all pictures of the home shown are in midday, and the other half are night. All listings show both retail and lease information. The car leases come with an optional maintenance plan, and all other services are as listed. Oh, and your payment for your assistance in keeping the masquerade is inside. All cash. Any questions, my business card is on the inside cover. Just ask for Rochelle."

"Thank you, Rochelle," I said, pulling two grand in fresh filing the binder in my bag. The thing was heavy, and definitely not something I wanted to carry around. Rochelle then walked away, and I headed back to the elevator. I was able to quickly get the ground floor, and get a cab back to the Last Round. I had the driver wait, while I went in to get my case.

"Cammie," Damsel said as I entered the bar. My recently acquired travel case was right beside her.

"Damsel," I said smiling back at her. "Well you were right about Michele, absolutely stunning."

"Told ya," she said, smiling back at me. "So how'd it go?"

"A Doctor Grout was missing, so the prince got the tie breaker," I told her. "He said that without more members of my clan, there's no clan to represent. So I was denied."

"Figures. I was hoping you'd get on there precious counsel. Oh well Cammie. We tried," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Keep your eyes out for more plaguebearers though. Skelter dusted another one an hour ago."

"Great," I said, no enthusiasm at all in my word. Jezebel was hard enough to take, the next one might not be so easy.

"Well, here's your bag," she said, handing me my case. "Did Michele at least like your fancy jewelry?"

"Yes, though she said it was moissanite and not real diamonds. She did like it though."

"That's all that matters. Think all mine is cubic zirconia." she said as we walked to the door.

"I'll get on the case of those other plaguebearers when I find Grout. He wasn't at the meeting. Herr Mueller said he was acting strange last week, and Scott thought he might have went nuts."

"Grout? Don't know much about him except he's like the most sane malk you'll ever meet."

"He's not nuts? I thought you said they were all nuts."

"They are, except for him. He's supposed to be so sane that they couldn't hardly tell what clan he was until another Malk pointed it out. Be careful, Cammie. If Grout went nuts, there's no telling what he might or might not have done, or will do. Malks can and will pass on their insanity to others, even make you see things that aren't there. One Malk and I got into it once, and for the rest of the night I had to be watched because I thought I was back in high school. Even tried eating and couldn't understand why it made me sick."

"I'll be careful, Damsel, and thanks for warning me." She was way too close, with absolutely no space between us. I couldn't help but try to picture the tart redhead in a fancy gown, but it was too alien a concept. The moment seemed to stretch as we stared into each others eyes, but it was finally me that broke eye contact. "I think I need to go. I have a long way to go and the sun will be up soon."

"Yeah, you better get going Cammie," she said, her voice sad as I walked down to the waiting cab. I didn't look back as we drove away, but I wanted to. As much as I liked Damsel, I wasn't sure if I felt that way about her. I couldn't but feel awkward about such thoughts, when before Simeon I wouldn't have thought about women at all. I was raised Catholic and to like boys. But since Simeon had done what he did to me, I couldn't think that way about men at all.

But ever since, I was finding myself more and more attracted to other girls. I didn't know why this attraction started, or if it would go away. I didn't even know if it were real or not, or how to make it go away. And Damsel? I didn't want to hurt her. She was too good for that. Though as I thought about Damsel, I suddenly realized I did care for her. At least my inner beast hadn't ruined that. But had I ruined it with the way I left?

I continued to contemplate it the entire ride home, even as it got bright outside. I kept hoping we'd make it to the apartment before the sun rose, but with miles left to go through the thick morning traffic, I felt the now familiar drain as the sun rose above the horizon. Panic filled me, as I knew Brian and Heather wouldn't know to be watching for me, and the cabbie couldn't know that I was kindred.

I ducked down into the seat, feigning that I was just sick. I tuned the cabbie and his complaints about puking in his car out as I dealt with staying awake. Soon, the cabbie announced we had arrived, and I flinched at the brightness around me. It was giving me an excruciating headache. I handed the cabbie my card, flinching at the pain of sunlight hitting my hand. I made sure to keep my hand out of the sunlight as I took my card back.

"Can you pull off into the alley a bit? I don't want sunlight to ruin my fair complexion," I lied. The cabbie grunted, but I felt the cab shift as he pulled over the curb. "Thanks amigo," I whispered, carefully lifting myself out of the cab to keep myself in the shadows. Grabbing my bags, I started to stagger down the alleyway to the door that led upstairs, thankful the building itself blocked the light.

Damsel wasn't lying when she said we couldn't stay awake during the day. Even this little bit was brutal. I finally staggered to the apartment door, just in time to see it open as Constance was getting ready to leave. "Mistress!" she shouted, rushing forward to help me inside. Brian and Heather were there in a heartbeat, with Brian getting under my other shoulder and physically carrying me while Heather picked up my feet and dress. Inside, Brian began barking orders to shut the blinds.

"Get me out of this dress," I said, but I think in my tired state I was slurring my words. Heather seemed to catch the idea, and soon she was stripping me out of my dress. Stripped of my dress and jewelry, Brian picked me and carried me into the bathroom, and I could feel the small beams of light that seeped past the blinds as they raked across my skin. I was so tired though that all I could do was whimper, even as Brian settled me onto my pallet in the shower stall. Settled in and secure, I let myself drift into the abyss of sleep.


	20. Chapter 20 - Helping Hand

Chapter 20 – Helping Hand

September 30, 2004 = Thursday

I woke to searing pain, and couldn't help but whimper as each and every movement was agony. I soon became aware though, that I wasn't alone. I was being held to the bosom of another, and by the soft, fleshy lumps pushing into my arm, a feminine someone. I opened my eyes, and quickly shut them as bright light flooded my eyes as if I were staring into several one-hundred-twenty watt bulbs.

"Mistress?" I heard Heather say. "Do you want me to help you up?" I nodded my approval, and Heather helped me to stand. I was glad they had stripped me out of my clothes, but I wasn't sure if I could heal sunlight damage like this, or how long it would take if I could. I did know I was hungry, and my lunchbox was in the next room. Heather helped me to the door, and I cracked an eye to find Constance waiting on me. She rolled her head over, baring her neck for me.

I took a tentative step toward her, wrapping my arms around her and using her to support me. I could feel the blood thrum in her veins, and licked her neck before I sank my teeth deep into her artery. She moaned as I drank her life giving blood, and I could feel life return into me as the pain left my body. Unfortunately, her blood thinned quickly and I was forced to stop lest I kill her. The teenager was limp in my arms, as I was now holding her up, but the light's were still bright enough to give me a headache.

"Brian? Can you settle her onto her bed please?" I asked him. Brian scooped the girl up, and laid her down to rest while I fumbled my way back into the bathroom. I turned off the bright light and let my shadow vision kick in while I examined my body. I had large scabs on my left arm and shoulder, and on my right hand. It still felt uncomfortable, but not the deep searing agony it was when I woke up.

Huh, guess feeding makes me heal fast. The burns looked almost third degree, which would have required the flesh to be cut away as it would be more like burnt steak at that point, but now? Maybe first degree? No more than having a bad sunburn or accidentally get near boiling water splashed on you. I rolled the pallet up, stashing it on the commode before turning the water on cool and showering. It still felt somewhat warm, even though it shouldn't reminding me of an extremely hot day where the water would be heated in the main pipes underground.

I washed at the scab, using the water to soften and remove it without ripping any skin under it. The scab start to peel away, leaving red skin underneath it, confirming why the pain lessened. I was almost healed, just a quick bite and I'd have perfect skin again. Maybe being a monster was useful for something.

Stepping out the shower and drying off, I wondered how Constance was doing. I did almost drain the girl dry. Wrapping a towel around me, I left the dark bathroom and stepped back into the lit main room, the bulb was still bright, and my headache began to resume. Constance was laid out on the bed, tucked in under the covers with Brian sitting beside her, trying to get her to wake.

"How long did she take last time?" I asked him.

"A minute, maybe two. I don't like this, mistress," he said, not looking back as he continued to stare at her.

"Let me check," I told him, and he moved to stand by the fridge. Heather watched, horror filled her eyes. I put my ear above her mouth, listening to her breathe and seeing the bare rise of her chest. I then moved down, putting my ear right on her chest in the valley of heaven, and listened to her heart. I could hear it as thumped weakly, straining to pump a near empty system. She was going to be weak from blood loss for days, but she'd survive. "She'll be okay. I just took a bit too much."

Brian nodded his head, his eyes wide as he looked at me, and even Heather looked scared. I couldn't help but feel I was the monster in the family, the matriarch everyone respected but not nobody liked. The kind who had problems from everyone playing their petty politics as they tried to gain favor. I did have four ghouls, plus whatever term Constance was. Damsel said she was the start of my herd, so cow maybe? Blood bag? I still think Happy Meal suited her best.

"Mistress," Heather began, as she continued to stare wide eyed at me, "what's wrong with your eyes?"

"What do you mean?"

"The colored parts aren't there anymore," Brian said as he looked at me in horror. "Can you even see?"

"What do you mean? I see fine," I said as I looked between the two. "I have a headache from the bright lights in here, but other than that..."

"Mistress, there's only two lights in the apartment," Brian told me. I looked around, and he was right. That one bulb I could see was the source of my oncoming migraine. But why?

"Is it like when they dilate your eyes?" I asked them. Brian shook his head, then Heather dug into a schoolbag for a notebook and pencil. She sketched something real fast and then showed it to me.

"This is what an eye looks like, right?" she said, showing it to me and Brian. It was a good drawing, simple but complete, with the white of the eye, the veins and the colored iris all being displayed along with a solid black for the center lens."This is what it looks like now, she said, as she used the pencil to blacken the center of the eye. Now, all that was left was the white of the eye, and I couldn't help but feel robbed of something.

Of course, now I was also a walking masquerade violation if anyone saw my missing iris's.

A knock at the door broke me out of my thoughts, and we all looked to the door. Brian looked at me for guidance, and I nodded. It seems we never got visitors, and I wondered who might trouble themselves to brave the sun to see me? Michele? Damsel? Strauss?

Brian opened the door to reveal a light golden-brown haired woman in a leather outfit. From where I stood behind the door, that was about all I could see. Her voice was high pitched, very feminine, but the outfit was very butch. Then I remembered, this was the girl who staked me at Simeon's warehouse, and then stood up for me at the trial. A Gangrel. It was Hunter Bitch.

"Hi," she said to Brian, as I hid behind the door still dressed only in my towel. "I'm here to see Eliza, who's hiding behind the door? My name's Jean." I fought the brief surge of panic as she singled out where I was, and instead of wondering how she knew, stepped around the end of the door to feel naked in just a towel. I really should have gotten dressed after my shower.

"Jean," I said, extending a hand in greeting, even as my left kept the towel from falling. "Nice to see you. Thanks for standing up for me at my trial, by the way."

She giggled at that, leaning against the door frame. I'd call her a bimbo, like Angel, except where Angel tried to be sexy by dressing to reveal her voluptuous body, Jean hid her alabaster skin as much as possible. Her leather pants were skin tight as they should be, but the white tank was loose under her heavy denim jacket and seemed tucked into her pants. I could tell she had a large rack by the way her coat stuck out from her shoulders, but she didn't show any cleavage. Even her ass was hidden under the long denim jacket and not out for display with only a standard boot heel, not some kind of stiletto or heel. She seemed to have been a model before her change, but now she hid it.

And why was I ogling her like I was Brian? She seemed not to notice, or maybe she did and was just used to it, and took my offered hand. Her hands were rough, covered in small callouses, but the nails were neat and trimmed. Actually, the difference between her and Dusty was night and day. And they were the same clan? How did you tell the different clans apart then?

"It's not a problem, sweetie. I know how it feels to be Embraced into something you don't understand," she said, her breathless way of talking was amazing, and seemed to quiet something in me. The panic that was filling me abated, and I almost shuddered at realizing how nervous I was. "You really should keep a better hand on your Beast. It felt like it was ready to take control."

I nodded, starting to realize what everyone meant by the inner beast. "If you'll give me a moment, I'll get dressed. I feel like a harlot standing here in nothing but a towel."

"Go ahead, I'll be waiting. Someone forgot to get you the address to Grout's mansion, so I'm supposed to drive you there. My truck's downstairs," she said, as I turned my back to get the clothes Heather had laid out for me. It was one of Sharron's all leather ensembles, and probably fitting considering I might have to go digging for Grout. I just hope it wasn't literally.

"Oh, you poor thing!" Jean exclaimed as she saw Constance laid out in the bed. She leaned over the youth, sniffing, before finally setting an ear to her chest. "She'll be alright, but sweety, you can't drain them that deep. It's not good for their heart."

"Yeah, I was trying to heal from a bad sunburn I got coming home. That and I drank from her yesterday. I'm still getting used to this," I said apologetically as I entered the bathroom. I could hear the bed creak as something shifted on it, and I dressed quickly in the cotton panties, leather pants and crop top. I stepped out to see Jean on the bed with Constance, the happy meal smiling as she wrapped herself around Jean, her lips moved as she murmured something I couldn't hear.

"I still say she looks familiar," Brian said, looking at Heather. "I just can't figure where I know her from."

"She's a vampire!" Heather silently argued back. "You know, blah-blah vampire? She could be hundreds of years old!" Jean stroked Constance's hair as the youngster continued to hug the kindred in bed with her. It made me wonder if the kid was an adrenaline junkie.

"She's only seventy eight," Constance mumbled, and we looked at her. She knew a kindred?

"So who is she?" We all said together. Constance mumbled something about comfortable and I chalked it up to blood loss. The mind can often do strange things under stress, after all. More likely she was a celebrity look-a-like, the kind that can't make a name for themselves unless it's impersonating their famous counterpart in movies or TV. Still, who did she remind me of?

"Well, the name I use is Jean Baker," she said simply, her breathless voice so feminine and at odds with her attire. Brian and Heather exchanged glances, shaking their heads. The name meant nothing to any of us, so I chalked up another point in the look-a-like column. Constance seemed to be okay, so I slipped on a pair of three inch heels with straps to hold it tight to my foot.

Fully dressed, I pulled my bag from beside the desk. The pistol I had taken from the thug was on top, and I pulled it out. Behind the trigger, it said 'Made in Austria, Glock, Inc.' I pulled out the part that held the bullets, and the spare that came out the top after I slid the top part back. I really don't know much about guns.

"It's a Glock, Seventeen maybe, maybe a nineteen?" Brian said, moving to stand behind me.

"Yeah, it's a Glock 19, third generation. Holds fifteen in the clip, and has a universal rail to mount a laser sight or a flashlight on. I recommend the laser sight, unless you're bad with your night vision," Jean said from the bed. "It's great for when you need to kill kine and not make it look supernatural, or just intimidating people. Not so great on kindred. It's just a nuisance, even hollow points don't do enough damage to really stop us."

"So, how do I do this?" I asked Brian, who showed me how to put bullets in the clip, the part that goes in the handle. He even showed me where the button for the clip release was, and the safety on the slide. It was more complicated than the revolver, which I pulled out and gave to Brian in case he needed it. I was about to stash it back in my bag when Jean piped back into the conversation.

"If you want, I can give you a holster for that. You can keep it on your belt in the back in case you need it. If you keep everything in your bag, all someone has to do is take the bag to leave you defenseless."

I weighed her words, then nodded. I had been lucky so far, in that I had never been separated from my bag, but that was changing. I needed to adapt, to change before I ended up dead. If that meant packing a pistol like an outlaw, well, call me bad. I was so not going to die tonight, and Nines did say I needed to be ready to fight at a moments notice. "Brian, take Heather and Constance back to that shop and get me a selection of coats. Preferably long enough to hide a holster."

"Sure, mistress," he said, as I slid the weapon into the bag to keep it out of sight. Jean slid out from under Constance, being careful not to jostle her and laid her on a pillow. I followed Jean out the door and down the stairs to the alley. At the end of the alley sat a black Toyota 4x4 that had more dents in it than a golf ball. Jean went around to the other side, and I opened the door and climbed in.

The first thing that drew my eye was the badge hanging from the review mirror. I turned it a bit, to see it said bounty hunter. When Jean got in, she reached into her coat and pulled out a huge pistol with a shiny finish. Jean noticed my gaze as she slid the weapon into a holster attached to the dash where it would be by her knee.

"This is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world and would blow your head clean off. You've gotta ask yourself one question. Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?" she intoned, pitching her voice low and deep. It finally clicked after a second. She was quoting Dirty Harry as he talked about his gun. I smiled, shaking my head.

"Still not good against a kindred?"

"Takes several shots to kill one, best thing is to aim for the neck or the heart," she said as she started the motor. It purred into life, and the headlights came on. It was nice being in the dark, and my headache eased. "Detach the head, and they turn to ash. Destroy the heart, and they turn to ash. Problem is, not everyone has their heart in the same location, so be careful."

It was odd listening to her talk, as her voice was so light as she talked of dark things. She also had an odd lilt in her voice, owing more to her probably being old than anything else. Still, she was helping and I needed that. "So, what way do you prefer?"

"There's no good way, unfortunately. Stake works best if you want them alive, just shove it through their heart. A pencil works in a pinch, but like a straw through a potato, fast and straight. Knives and swords are good for getting close in for like Tremere and kindred who like to fight. That's one reason I liked you, you didn't fight me and let me stake you without a problem. You just seemed so innocent, like I was."

"Turned against your will?"

"Some gangrel who was a serial murderer decided to have a little fun. Instead of killing, he decided he was going to turn them. As the gangrel way is to leave the childe alone after embrace, I didn't know what was going on. So, I turned back to what I knew, drugs and alcohol."

"How? I smell water and it turns my stomach," I said, remembering my experience in the diner when I met Sharron.

"Just popped the pills into my mouth and swallowed. Couldn't stomach the champagne I once liked so well, so I took them dry. Never take drugs, Eliza. Never. Our system doesn't clear it out and it throws your body off. Since I took a bunch of sleeping pills, I woke up two nights later, after my autopsy. Drained a tech and got found by a ghoul. He recognized me as a kindred, and helped me hide my "death," using another young girl to take my place. Isaac got involved, helping control the people who saw the difference. They used a whig to get the hair right, and an old friend was dominated into doing her makeup to more look like me. After that, no one knew."

"Sorry," I said, saddened by the news she had been ripped out of her life. "At least you had your shot, right?"

She started laughing. "Had my shot? You can say that. I starred in almost thirty films, so...yeah, I had a shot."

"You're not lying are you? You really were a movie star?"

"Oh yeah. I starred alongside Clark Gable, Laurence Olivier, Betty Grable, Cary Grant. Then I died, and it all got ripped from me. Isaac was a godsend. I'd met him before at parties, didn't realize who he was at the time, but he helped me through the changes and set me up in a place. Taught me how to survive."

"Thank God for Isaac," I said, not sure who the kindred was. "So, how does a former movie star end up in a battered old Toyota?"

"Gift from Isaac. It's an old movie prop for some sci-fi movie, I think. The kid went on to do good work," she said as we continued on. "Oh, you might want this," she said, reaching behind us to grab something. It turned out to be the holster she promised, made of leather and almost identical in color to my pants. I was going to put it on when I realized I didn't have a belt.

"You wouldn't to have a spare belt, would you?" Jean reached behind us and pulled out a belt. It was some kind of military belt, designed to use friction as a way of staying locked. "So, Jean Harlow?"

"I'm not that old," she said, laughing. "Jean Harlow was big in the thirties. I'm more of a fifties star. But don't worry, I've gotten good at hiding it. Right now, only Isaac really knows who I am. And not even that pretentious pup of his recognizes me."

"Another star?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Ash Rivers? Has that big movie that came out a few years ago, Negative Zero? He's kindred now too. He overdosed a few years ago, Isaac found him dying and brought him back as kindred. He's also been forced as I have to see his career flush itself down the toilet because he can't act anymore."

"Why not? He's not Nosferatu is he?"

"No, he's Toreador, which is where I wish I'd been embraced. Or at least as a Brujah. Even Malkavian has a certain charm in it over Gangrel."

"Because you don't want to end up like Dusty? He seriously needs a shower, by the way."

Jean frowned at that. "It's not the personal hygiene. It's the fact that we Gangrel are closer to the Beast in us. Every clan has a curse, for some it's not so bad. For us? Well, we turn into animals. Literally."

"You mean like he's got bear parts?" I said, and Jean nodded.

"As we lose ourselves to the Beast within us, we're left with parts of ourselves that aren't...human, anymore. I've already lost it a few times, and I try hard to avoid it, but sometimes staying in touch with my humanity is about all I can do, some nights."

"So, if we lose ourselves to this Beast, what happens to us?"

"You lose parts of yourself. Eventually, it can change you. Maybe not physically, like us Gangrel, but you'll find yourself loving to harm others. Taking pleasure in their pain. Like my sire, he laughed when he found me dirty and crying weeks later, and all I can remember after that is that I killed him. So be careful, okay? Promise me you'll fight it. I can help you at times, like tonight, to keep the Beast calm."

"I've felt it before, like something crawling under my skin. Does it always cause you to black out?"

"Every time," she said, as we continued at a crawl through the interstate traffic. I couldn't help but feel sad for her, and wanting to change the subject, decided to go back to figuring out her identity.

"So, was Jean the name your mother gave you?"

"One of them. My surname Baker is mom's anyway. I don't know whom my father was, though the one I'm popular for came from one of mom's husbands. Mom was committed when I was seven, and I spent the rest of my childhood in one home or another."

"Sorry, it doesn't sound as if you're life was ever that happy."

"Not really, no. I didn't become happy until I started acting. Always knew I'd die young, though. I was right, in the end."

Not wanting to keep the sad train of thought going, I decided to put my belt and gun holster on. The first few loops were easy, then the gun holster went on, before tracing my way through the other loops to fasten it properly. I pulled the gun from my bag, and checked it. I knew my trembling fingers might accidentally set the thing off, but I had to get used to it. Once I was sure I had the safety on, I put it in my holster, handle up, and felt the sold object acutely as I leaned back in the seat. It would take a lot of getting used to.

"Have you ever fired a gun before?" Jean asked me.

"Besides the hundred times I accidentally shot myself in my mind?" I snarked back, but knew she was right and that I needed to spend some time in a gun range. "Just the day I became kindred. I managed to run from Simeon while I was still alive, stole a gun from a guard and ran for it. He caught me in a dead end alley and I gave him everything I could with the shotgun, only hit him once though."

That set her to laughing again. "You have more than those seven rounds I smell in that gun?"

"You can smell that?"

"Side effect of being Gangrel. We have an animal's sense of smell. Wolf, I think."

"If it weren't the turning into an animal thing, you'd have it made, huh?"

"Well," she started as she turned off the interstate, "I might have had it better if I were another clan. Any clan but Nosferatu."

"So where we headed?" I asked as we headed into the downtown area.

"His name is Fat Larry. He sells guns and, other things from the back of his truck. He's the best way we kindred have of staying stocked on our guns and ammo, as he doesn't exactly do this legally." Great, a black market arms dealer. "But, he does have good prices, and you don't have to worry about hiding yourself around him. He belongs to a Brujah, not sure which one, but he's been around for a bit and is quite knowledgeable about guns."

"Great," I said, as we pulled up to what looked like a UPS truck, but was just dull brown. Jean killed the motor, and stepped out, her hand pulling the magnum from its holster and putting back under her jacket. I was curious about how she fit the large gun there, but decided I'd ask her later. We went together to the back of the truck where a large, fat soul brother sat on the tailgate. He looked at us and smiled.

"Say Jean! You bringing me new customers, I like that. I am Fat Larry, and that's with an F-A-T because there is more of me to love. So what can I do to help you fine looking ladies today?"

I pulled out my Glock, and held it up. "Need some spare clips for this, maybe a coat if you have one, and a lot of bullets so I can practice."

"Sure, baby doll. I got all the firepower you could ask for," he said as he opened his truck. Racks of various guns filled the back end, making look like a military armory in a movie. There were so many, I had no hope of identifying them all. Rifles, grenades, pistols, and several ammo crates. This guy was prepared for a war. He climbed into the back of the truck, opening a crate to rifle through a box of clips, coming away with two more clips for my Glock. He then turned to the opposite wall, opening a few boxes, and pulling out three coats and a trench coat. He brought them out and showed them to me. "Don't exactly carry your size, you're so small, but I do have a selection of fine merchandise," he said. I tried on a few, liking one that was made of wool that came down to my thighs. It also fit me reasonably well, spilling off my shoulders and falling straight down. More of a man's coat than a woman's.

"Coat like this was designed to hide one of these babies," he said, as he reached into the truck and pulled out a shotgun. I'd seen it before, as the kind police officers carry. It had a pistol style grip, and a pump action system, but lacked the shoulder stock that rifles had. It did have some kind of weird rail on top of it though, and figured if I knew anything about guns I could identify it. "She's an Ithaca 37, with an extended tube and can fire slugs or buckshot. Prefer slugs myself. One good hit with his baby, and a kindred will shite themselves into ash. She also has a folding stock," he said, as he flipped the funny rail over the end and it formed the stock I thought it should have had. "Designed for police, good enough for kindred."

"How much?" I asked him. It was worth it, if it was cheap enough.

"Hundred fifty for the shotgun, and I'll throw in a couple of boxes of buckshot. Coat's fifty, ten a piece for the clips. How many bullets you need for that nine mill? Cost is five bux a box, hundred rounds a box."

"Six boxes then," I said, and Jean gave an approving nod. I counted out the money and gave it to him, stowing the boxes of bullets in my bag and using the cord provided to stash the shotgun on my back. Once I slipped the coat on, both guns were hidden from sight. Now, all I needed was a rifle in a case and I could pass for a professional hitman.

"Looking good, sugar," Larry said as I looked myself over. Even Jean was nodding in appreciation. I couldn't help but feel good, knowing I was getting more capable with defending myself in a tough situation.

"I'll take you out to a bare patch of desert in the mountains that's far from any werewolf dens. Up there, you can shoot off a box and I can teach you a thing or two real fast, okay?" Jean said, as I lifted my bag.

"Great, it'll give Grout a bit to maybe get himself together, and maybe I won't shoot myself if I have to use this thing."

With our business done, me and Jean got back in her truck, and I could feel the guns press into my back. It was actually uncomfortable. "Hey, mind if I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Jean said as we got back on the interstate.

"Is the reason you take your gun out of its holster because it gets uncomfortable to sit on?"

She nodded. "Yeah. In my case, the barrel catches on the door and presses into my shoulder. It bruises after a while."

"So, where do you keep it?"

Jean opened her coat to show leather around her left arm and a holster connected to it. "It's a shoulder holster, got it from a catalog for police officers. And yes, I am a licensed bounty hunter. Did that years ago. Cuffs, guns, holsters, mace, tasers, got it all and know how to use it. And you'd think I'd at least be taken seriously at a Gathering."

"Let me guess. Gangrel seem to shun guns?"

Jean held up her hand and after turning it over, I watched as it turned into a monster like paw with long claws. "They shred skin like a hot knife through butter."

"Gangrel power?" I guessed. And Jean nodded as her hand returned to normal.

"It's called Protean. It's our special ability, like your ability to do stuff with shadows. If I were so inclined, I could later use it to transform into animals, like a bat, wolf, bird or bear. It's how most of our clan gets around. I can barely form claws, even after forty years. So, like a pup, I have to drive to Gathering, then announce my name in front of the clan. I usually get laughed at."

"Ouch. That must make you look like a rookie."

"Yeah, but the name," she said, shaking her head, "Gangrel names are long things. My first two minutes read like a Toreador's life."

"And I guess it's a source of pride that your name is long, and filled with worthy things?"

"Yeah, so while an actress can go on for minutes about her acting creds, it goes nowhere. The clan cares more for my taking down criminals than being famous. Weird huh?"

"Wonder what my clan is like?"

"Probably meet by candle light, but beyond that? Who knows," she said as we left the interstate. We were past any lights now, and my shadow sight kicked in. I could now see as if it were daylight, but there wasn't anything to see. It was an open, barren desert. After several minutes, Jean pulled off the road and we went through the desert, where every jar of the sand was easily felt. I thought the desert was supposed to be smooth? After a few more minutes, we drove down into what looked like an empty river, and there we stopped. Jean stopped the motor, and hit a switch, flooding the area in bright light. We got out, and I kicked off my shadow vision to see normally. Jean's truck had a row of bright lights on a roll bar above the cab, with more on the front grill.

The washout area was littered with cans and trash, and Jean came over to stand beside me. "First things first. Pull your gun." I pulled my gun out, taking a moment to click the safety off. "Okay, next time you're stuck somewhere safe, you need to practice clicking the safety off with one finger, and not having to look at it. If you can't be good and fast, you'll be slow and dead."

I nodded, wrapping my hand around the gun, raising it and clicking the safety off with my thumb. "Good, one handed is good if you are in a bind, but get used to having two hands on your gun at all times. It gives you better control of the weapon, and thus better aim." I put two hands around the handle, feeling more confident. Why didn't they do this in the movies?

"Now, since your gun has a slide top, keep your hands low to keep from getting bit by the slide when you fire it. It has to slide to reload, so keep that area clear. Now, aim down at the far bank, and empty your gun. Get used to its recoil, and try to hit the same spot each time," she told me as she backed behind me. I aimed the gun down at the bank, and started pulling back on the trigger. The gun kicked in my hands, and the pop was loud enough to ring my ears.

"Not bad, but classic newbie mistake. Squeeze the trigger, don't pull it. Pulling it throws off your aim, which we'll get to later." I nodded my understanding, and squeezed the trigger. My aim seemed to be truer, and I kept squeezing the trigger, each shot close to the first. After a few shots, the gun clicked. I looked back at jean, who was pulling bullets from a box, loading the clips I'd bought earlier.

"Not bad, you've got talent. Now, with one hand, hit the release, using the other to catch the clip and pull it out," she said, and it felt clumsy, but I pulled it out. "Little clumsy there. Lock it back in, and do it a few times. That needs to feel smooth, natural. The faster you reload, the faster you can get back to surviving." I put the clip back in, practicing taking it in and out. It took me close to twenty times for it to feel natural, but Jean liked my improvement.

"Next up, aiming," she said, setting up a can ten feet away. "Hit it," she said, giving me a clip full of bullets. I set the clip in, and took aim at the can. Once I had it lined up in the sights, I squeezed the trigger and the can went rolling. "Good, you can hit a stationary target. Hit it again, and this time, keep it rolling," she told me. I took aim at the can again, hitting it once again, and began to fire multiple shots and the can rolled along. I smiled as the gun clicked empty, and the can was lost to the darkness. Jean handed me a fresh clip, and using one hand, popped the empty clip out and slipped the fresh in as if it were second nature.

"Doing good, Eliza," Jean said, smiling her approval. "Once you get used to it, you might think about checking out different guns, and finding one you like. Most guns operate the same way, so it should make it easier. Revolvers like my magnum are the difficult ones, but Larry can help you figure one out."

"Thanks Jean," I said, flipping the safety on with my thumb and stashing the gun back in my holster. "You probably just saved my life."

"That might be stretching it, but you're welcome. Now, slip out the shotgun," she said, and I pulled the shotgun from it's cord. I folded out the stock, feeling the awkward weight of the weapon and knew I wouldn't be firing it one handed. It was designed for two handed use. Jean pulled some large bullets and handed them to me. "They slide in, copper side back," she told me, and I loaded the weapon. It took seven bullets for the gun to be fully loaded. Then Jean set up another can.

"Shotguns are a lot like pistols. Especially those with pistol grips. Squeeze the trigger, use your left hand to steady it, and keep it tight to your shoulder. After each shot, pull the grip back to reload it, and then forward again. With practice, it will become natural. Once it's loaded, the grip locks in place, and then has to be fired to unlock it. Under the front trigger guard is a button, you can hit it to rack the weapon again, especially to unload it for storage purposes, or to change ammo types. Larry can fill you in on that later. For now, hit the can, then try to keep it rolling."

I nodded, pulling the grip back like I had done to attack Simeon. The gun racheted, and after pushing it back forward, I lined the can up with the sights. "Keep your head upright, don't lean over the sights. It can throw off your aim." I kept my head up, and adjusted the gun on my shoulder. With the gun lined up, I fired the first shot, making the can jump. I quickly pulled the grip back, finding it almost natural in my pose, and pushed it back into place. The can barely had time to land and start rolling before I had it lined up again and fired my next shot into it. The can flew down the riverbed, and in an instant, I had the gun reloaded and fired a third shot after the fleeing receptacle. I reloaded, activating my shadow vision, and saw the can rolling just beyond the light. I put one more round into it, and Jean laughed.

"Wow, you must have really good night vision to hit it in the dark." I turned, slowly ratcheting a fresh round in the weapon and looked at her. Here eyes had an eerie glow, that as I turned off my shadow vision, found was red. The glow faded from her eyes, and we locked eyes.

"Part of my clan abilities. I can see in pitch black darkness. In fact, light shows up black when I use it."

"Nice," she said, handing me four more bullets. "Reload your gun, I think you're ready to head off into the sunrise,' she kidded me. I reloaded the gun, and looked at the trigger for the safety. "See that button, just behind the trigger, left hand side? Push it in to turn on the safety." I did it, then folded the stock back over and hung it on the cord under my shoulder.

"Grout's mansion isn't far from here," she said, as I tied my coat closed. "I'll drop you off, then you can call a cab to pick you up from there."

"Sounds good. So, who taught you to shoot?"

"When I went to get my bounty hunter license, they taught me the basics. Learned the rest over forty years of hunting. Come on, we better get a move on if you want to get done before the night's over."

I got back in the truck with Jean, and we headed for Grout's mansion. I couldn't help but think of how much I'd already changed, then I remembered Jean having said something about changes before. "So, Jean. What about these changes?"

"Well, I don't know if everyone is the same, but," she paused as she seemed to think about something, "it seems as if they're intended to make us all monsters. Sometimes I wonder if we're doomed to hell because of something our ancestor supposedly did."

"Ancestor?"

"Supposedly, we all come from Cain. You know, book of Genesis? The man who killed his brother because he grew crops instead of raising cattle? Legend has it, that God cursed him to be the first vampire. From there, he met Lilith. She taught him magic. From that magic, all our powers are based. He created childer, and they created more. They became the Third Generation. In polite society, they're called Antidiluvians. We each trace our ancestry back to one, and from there to Caine.

"The further down the line you are, the greater your Generation. From what I gather, at unlucky thirteen, you can't embrace anymore. You can't feed. They're called Thin Bloods. They're barely kindred, so watered down from Caine that they're almost alive.

"We also have a book, our own version of the Bible, called the Book of Nod. The short of it is this. One day, the antediluvians will rise again from their sleep. This will happen in the Time of Thin Blood, when kindred with weak blood and those who have no idea of their kindred nature will become so common they rise to the level of Prince. When they do, they'll feed on us, killing many of us off. Other stuff happens, and it's over. We will all be judged, probably by the very God who turned his back on us."

"So, what do we do?"

"We survive. Every night is a fight for survival. I'm weak, I know. Just a scared little valley girl who was more house wife than Rosy the Riveter," she said, her voice cracking a bit as she dredged up bad memories. "It's okay, I made it to the new millennium. I'm seventy eight years old now. Never thought I'd make it this far. Always thought I'd die a young, beautiful woman. Even had arranged ten years before I 'died' to have my makeup done. Even paid for it. I was ready to go. Here I am. It's two thousand four, forty years after I died and I'm still surviving. Just trying to be normal."

I couldn't help but feel for the actress. She was a lot like me, ripped from her life and forced to face a terrible future. I couldn't help but feel for her. Soon though, we arrived at a large house. We were on the outskirts of town, on a hill near a small brushy area.

"I'll take a guess and say we'll never be normal Jean. Mortal's are our prey. We're the monsters in the night. But," I hung my head as I thought about the lives I've taken already. "We don't have to be. You keep on suppressing that beast, and I will too. Okay?" God, she was going to make me cry.

"You best go. No telling how long it might take you to find him. It is a big house."

"Yeah, what is it? Four stories tall?" I said as I looked at the large mansion.

"Five. But, he's like old, from old money in England. Still, bigger than my home ever was."

"I'll catch you around, okay," I told her as I got out of the truck.

"Sure. I'm around the tower a lot. Give me a shout if you see me, and I'll gladly talk to you again.

"Later, hun," I said as I watched the gangrel drive off. I couldn't help but wonder who she had been. But as I looked at the mansion, and went through the gate to enter the front yard, I knew I had to shelve that thought. I had bigger fish to fry.


	21. Chapter 21 - Paging Doctor Grout

Chapter 21 – Paging Doctor Grout

September 30, 2004 = Thursday

I no more entered the main gate when the front door opened. I thought for a minute Grout might have decided to come out and this would be easy but it was Nines who stepped out. Well, that's a surprise.

"Hey, Nines," I called out, hoping to have a word with the Anarch who walked towards me. "What's up?"

"You, what are you doing here?" he said, his voice sounding off, a little high pitched and...scared?

"Looking into Grout's disappearance. Did you find him?"

"Look, you should get out of here. This place is bad news, pardon me" he said as he walked by me and out the front gate. I went to follow him, and to find out what was going on, but he had vanished.

"Huh," I said aloud, then turned and headed inside, where it was brightly lit and my headache went up a notch.

The front doors were unlocked, and the first thing I noticed was the woman huddled in the corner crying. She was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt with some kind of face mask that barely allowed her to see with fine mesh over the mouth piece. I went over to check on her when she noticed me. She quickly rose to her feet, pulling a kitchen knife from her back and charged at me. I didn't have time to reach for my pistol, so I jumped back as she slashed, then punched her in the face.

'Bad idea!" I screamed mentally, as I nursed my injured hand. The mask was some kind of hard plastic that protected her as much as inhibited her, and the woman charged at me again, barely knocked back by my attack. With nothing else to do, I caught her knife hand, and we fell back at the force of her attack. I reached for the shadows, and formed a tentacle around her neck to strangle her. The woman started to buck and kick but I held on to her knife hand to avoid getting cut. Soon, she quit struggling and went limp and the tentacle dissolved into nothing. I took the knife from her, throwing it across the room and got up. She wasn't breathing, so I let her lie.

'Damn ghouls. They really do protect their masters,' I thought, looking her over. 'Now, did she try to kill me because I'm here without her master's permission? Or is there something wrong?'

I didn't get a chance to ponder that before the interior doors burst open to reveal a guy in a leather gimp outfit and mask. My hand was already reaching for my pistol as the ghoul took in the situation, giving me a half second to get the pistol into my hands and somewhat aimed before he charged me. I let fly with the bullets, but the ghoul took eight before falling to the tiled floor. I kept my gun trained on the door, waiting for more to show up. Two more ghouls burst through the door, and I began firing more in panic than surety, putting rounds in both of them. After a few minutes when nothing more came through the door, I pulled a full clip of bullets from my coat pocket and reloaded the gun, dropping the empty clip before slamming the full clip home. I used my left hand to pick up the empty clip, stowing it back in my pocket.

Putting both hands back on my pistol, I started to advance through the house. The second set of doors opened up on a long hall that dead ended in sitting area. I walked back to the first door, which was on the right, but it was locked by some kind of drop arm that secured to both handles. With one more hall, to check, I let it be and went back to the hallway that was on my left, finding it was blocked by couches and chairs and one unlit lamp in a makeshift barricade. I tugged a few pieces off the top, nearly getting caught in the avalanche of furniture as it fell around me.

With the barricade down, I continued down the hallway, finding another locked door on my right before coming into a two story library with a large open center. At the back was a ghoul playing with some lights, making them go off and on as he pulled something. I was halfway through the library before I realized he was pulling the light bracket itself, turning them off and on in some bizarre sequence.

Then he noticed me. He spun to face me, already beginning his charge, and I took a moment to aim putting three into his chest which dropped the ghoul at my feet. I guess I was going to have to start shooting every ghoul I came across if they were all going to be hostile to me. I glanced around, then decided that this was some sort of puzzle that unlocked that one door. Grout really was insane, for his own security. Most people would assume that he had some sort of hidden door, but his own ghoul had betrayed him on this one.

Looking at the area, again, I figured maybe the tape recorder might hold the answer. So I switched it on to hear a deep voice start talking in a slightly British accent.

"Another unfortunate casualty to tide of time: Insane Asylums. I lament their loss not only as brokerage houses for the breadth and depth of human psychoses, but also I shall mourn the disappearance of that peculiar environment present only in an insane asylum. That palpable atmosphere of blistered brains and churning bowels, the odiferous melange of freely flowing bodily humours, that gently rolling cacophony of distant sobs and screams, the muttered cursing of perceived enemies and the blissful gurgling of the lobotomized. Like a new-born babe discovering the sky. I shall still find test subjects as surely as I find bloody sustenance in the night but this climate, I fear, may never be replicated."

As the tape finished, I was sure the doctor was insane. Well read, very articulate, but if he loved the atmosphere of the insane asylum where people were abused, mistreated, and often where the sane were driven insane, he was nuttier than pecan pie.

Finding no help in the musings of the good doctor, I continued my search for something to help me out. I did find a note on the table.

'Perception at once shapes the Mind and rules over Time. Time however, erodes human Perception and then in turn warps the Mind. The Mind is capricious, having various effects on Perception, Time, and the Mind itself...With harmony, progress is made.'

Well, that wasn't much help. And I hate riddles. So Mind, Time and Perception? I looked at the light brackets, each one had a small button emblem at the bottom of the bracket. An Egyptian symbol for Ra which was for Perception, an hourglass emblem for Time, and a symbol for a brain I took for Mind. Well, now I all I had left was to pull the right one. Thinking over the riddle again, I went to the far right one with the brain symbol on it and pulled it. With nothing noticeable happening, I pulled it again and heard a large bong go off far to my left.

Taking that as a sign, I began walking back to the way I came and found another tape recorder. Needing a moment to reload and restock my gun, I hit play while I reloaded.

"It is quite peculiar the happenings I've been made to witness from my supernatural longevity. I'm thinking of one unfortunate phenomenon in particular of unique interest to my station, both as a professional and as a sufferer of this Vampiric condition. It seems the stream of time has begun to erode the moorings of my chosen course of study, for the methodologies that gave birth to psychology are slowly disappearing. I find myself in an era that overlooks the physical component of psychological pathology, time and again in favor of the sophistic practices of Freud. Phrenology, Dactopindalism, and the rest of the old guard is fallen by the wayside, its champions all silenced in death with my unique exception. Would that I could make my voice heard again, although it may be suspicious should I return to popular medical discourse fifty years after my apparent death.

"No, better that I continue my studies into the psychosis in secret. One day I may hold up my own cure as validation of the methods. I am confident no cure for my condition, or that of my beloved wife, lies within our figurative minds, waiting to be unlocked by the correct combination of memories recovered from our childhoods. And I'm most certain that it has nothing to do with the relationship between myself, my parents, and my genitals. Sorry, Sigmund, but I choose to stay my course. In time, too, may your star fade and disappear."

I couldn't help but listen to the tape in its entirety. Insane he might be becoming, but he was trying to find a cure. Well, good luck doctor, because they haven't found a cure for being dead. I had a fully loaded gun now, and all my clips were reloaded from the box of ammo from my bag. I went back down the hall, back to the hall where I came in. I checked the other door, finding the bars were now gone and it was open.

There were four ghouls in this room, one of them a male. I took a steadying breath, then went in the room, and put one right into his brain, dropping him. The other three began to charge me, and I moved my sights to the closest. My first shots went into her chest, and it took four to drop her. The second was over halfway through the room, making a mad dash straight for me. I started firing before I was even sure of my shots, too intent to stop her before she reached me.

Unfortunately, it took the better part of the clip before she fell, which left only a round or two in the pistol. The last ghoul came right over the couch in a single bound, and my last shot caught her right as she tackled me. I threw her off me, as quick as I could, while I rolled the opposite way. I dropped the pistol, raising a hand to summon my shadows but the ghoul stayed in a ball where she fell. I picked the pistol up, reloading while I kept an eye on her, then inched forward to nudge her over with my foot.

The ghoul was dead, having landed on the knife when she tackled me. Lowering the pistol, I checked the doors, not finding one that was unlocked. I did find another candlelight holder, though this one lacked any identifier. Giving it a tug, I heard a loud creak above me. Going to the foot of the stairs, I looked up to see an opening where one wasn't before. I went up the stairs, finding another ghoul waiting for me. I put two in her head, dropping her before she could do anything.

I looked around, finding another tape recorder and paused to listen to it. Any clue the doctor may have left behind might hold the answer to where he was hidden, whether here or elsewhere, and I couldn't afford the time it would take to come back through the maze this house was turning into.

"Often I reflect with great regret on the missed opportunity that was my infector. Had I been conscious after the attack, I could have stopped the orderlies from locking her in the roaming pen. What I would give for just one interview, a few simple questions of the plague ridden woman who met her end that dawn.

"Of course there is no guarantee she would have been any more helpful than my current crop of test subjects - Mewling wretches! Few could be called 'enthusiastic' - Given the nature of the tests, I cannot expect the same fervor from all, but a modicum of cooperation would be appreciated. Animals. The one called 'John' went so far as to gnaw off his arm and escape into the floorboards like some feral rodent. I still hear him scurrying about at night, he must be making an atrocious mess in there."

Well, hopefully John passed some time ago, or I was going to play exterminator and get rid of a rodent infestation. I continued on, going down some stairs and found a corpse laid out on a couch. I also found another tape recorder and listened to it.

"My studies proceed at a languid pace. I'm mired in a foul ennui as my wife's illness advances. My subjects grow restless without proper supervision, but I cannot pull myself back from this black depression. How many nights I've wasted now, gazing from the tower walk, pondering the frailty of existence."

Well, still no help, but I was beginning to put a picture of Grout's life together. The great illness of life was old age, and if Grout didn't know how to turn her, she would have died of old age, or been succumbing to it. As she needed more and more care, Grout's work suffered. So how long ago was this? Psychoanalysis was an early twentieth century psychological study, falling out of favor for other fields of study as Grout earlier attested, but was still used by most psychologists in one on one practice. Hence the couch most psyche doctors still used.

I wondered if the picture I saw on a nearby table was supposed to be his wife, but doubted I'd find that answer. There was no timeline here. These tape recorders were primitive, maybe early thirties or forties. Not that I'm an expert, but it was that kind of ancient technology I was seeing. Even a nearby light switch wasn't a standard plastic flip type I was familiar with, but a small metal one I had seen once in my nana's house which had been built in during the Civil War by my great-great grandpa.

There was nowhere left to go, but up the spiral staircase, so I began climbing. The door at the top led out on a walkway between the two turrets of the house. I was also now on the roof, on top of a hill, and the view was spectacular. I could see downtown LA, with Lacroix tower well lit up. I paused to take in the view, letting my headache ease, before I went through the other door and down the spiral staircase there.

It led me to another ghoul, and I popped her in the back of a head before she even moved. I knew she'd attack, just like every other ghoul and test subject had, and I wasn't going to risk missing. The floor kept sloping down, curving back on itself and dropping down again. I had to be back on the ground floor by now. I came out on a green-lit room that had two more ghouls in it. I put a bullet in one's head before she moved, and the other began charging me. I locked on to her and dropped her with three to her chest.

I paused, switching clips, then checked the room. The door on the left was barred like the one with the staircase in it, and finding nothing to get me through it, went to check on the two doors opposite. They led back to the staircase room I had been at earlier. This whole house was turning into a maze, and that left me wondering if Grout was the prize at the center. Well with one more door to check, I went through it, made a sharp left and opened that door to find two ghouls waiting on me.

I quickly backpedaled through the door emptying the clip into the pair as I went, finally dropping both. I reloaded, then pushed on into a sitting area with a fireplace and a tape recorder. I hit play, hoping it had some clue where I needed to go.

"After decades of solitary study into this affliction, I have learned that it is by no means mine alone. Indeed, this city is home to an entire society of similarly afflicted individuals with whom I've only recently made contact. They are an understandably standoffish sort, by and large, but I have been able to confirm with them that the condition is indeed vampirism, which apparently comes in a multitude of strains, each with a spectacular set of symptoms such as invisibility and even a sort of lycanthropy.

"Through numerous official interactions with the governing body of this secret society, I have concluded that their fundamental understanding of the vampiric condition is woefully lacking and mired in suspicion and pseudo-religious dogma that would make a Turk balk for its strictures. Indeed, they seemed impressed with my studies and the eloquence with which I was able to present them. Apparently the typical sufferer of my particular strain of vampirism is far from the vanguard of the King's English. So impressed were they that they even offered me an office in their government, a rather high office, by the sound of things. I believe I shall accept. If nothing else, it should provide a lofty vantage point from which to observe the breadth and epidemiology of the affliction so that I may move more expeditiously toward a cure."

"Lot of help you are, doctor," I muttered, as I sat in one of the chairs. King's English? That could have meant any time before the fifties. The old broad was still reigning, so he had to have been raised in England before then. It made him older than Jean, whoever she was supposed to be, and an interesting case. So he made contact with the local Camarilla, which meant he had to have been locked away since the sixties, or earlier. That made his puzzles more interesting, so I got up and inspected the room I was in. The answer was here, somewhere, and as I looked into a mirror, nearly had a panic attack.

Two ghouls stood watching me, and I quickly turned and raised my pistol, but nothing was there. I looked back into the mirror, seeing them clearly. Lowering the pistol, I looked into the mirror, and saw a perfect copy of the room. Everything was identical, chairs, table, wallpaper. Even the tape recorder on the…

I looked again, the tape recorder sat on my side, but on the other side the table sat empty. I went back to the fireplace, checking for switches, finally finding a soft button like piece of wood and pressed it which caused the center of the fireplace to lift up. I dropped to a knee, and fired at the ghouls on the other side, killing both as they tried to get at me. Once through, I went through the door and followed the hall around to a staircase. It led me back to the library, though I was now on the second floor of it.

I went left, checking out some of the bookshelves as I went, though I was almost to the rear before I found a problem with one of the bookcases. Most of the books displayed were in a series. But this one bookcase had a one-off oddity. A Webster's Dictionary. With all of the other technical journals and scientific thesis on display, why a dictionary?

I pulled on it, it budged only slightly, and a loud creaking came from underneath me. I leaned over the railing to see a bookcase had swung out. Clever, that must have been his expedient path to getting around, rather than say the light brackets hung not ten feet away next to the tape recorder? I went over and hit play, hoping for more information.

"I have accepted the role of 'Primogen' for clan 'Malkavian', the dreadfully winsome label applied to the particular strain of vampirism I suffer. So named for some supposed vampire father figure of old. More poppycock grown from a backwood culture that seems interminably drawn to childrens' tales and the fiction of Victorian romance when it should concern itself with the science behind their suffering. No matter, for I have taken this office for no greater reason than the advancement of my research.

"I must make mention however that even among my would-be peers in this governing body of vampires, the level of paranoia and superstition is frightening! Their intelligence is not the question, no, indeed, as they courted me for this appointment, I had to suspect that their overtures were hand-tailored for what must be my obvious infatuation with reason, for the devil would do well to have such honey-tongued tempters. Even so, I could not help but notice the dressing of language these vampire leaders chose for their siren song. Whether it is born of habit, from addressing their unwashed, ill-educated subjects or from their own deep-seated beliefs, their linguistic flourishes belie a faith in superstition over the providence of empirical reason that must be an all-pervasive theme in this society of darkest night. Damn it all now, I'm doing it, too"

"Congratulations, doctor," I said, as I continued on after listening to the tape. With the next passageway open, I didn't need to fool with the puzzle, but just dropped over the side to land stealthily on my feet. I went through the passage behind the bookcase, down some stone stairs and found myself in some kind electrical room. Giant rods hung from the ceiling and arced electricity into electrodes on the wall. One guy seemed to have already fried getting through and his chest had scorch marks gouged in it.

I looked around, knowing there had to be a way through without becoming fried kindred, and found a switch marked closed and open, with the lever on closed. My basic science came back, and I remembered that closed is how you properly mark a completed electrical circuit. I flipped it to open, and the energy quit arcing through two electrodes. I carefully inched my way under the now dead electrode, and through to the other side, hitting the switch there into the open position. More electrodes were now dead, and I went to go open the switch when my foot nearly twisted underneath me from something I stepped on. I looked down, finding a large toothlike thing under my heels.

I picked it up, to see it was a large fang wrapped in a leather string. I could feel a soothing effect on the panic within, and decided it was probably mystical in origin, and tucked it away in my bag. On the other side, I opened that switch, and the electricity quit arcing beside me. I went to the next one, just stepping over to the platform and opened that circuit. That killed the power at the exit, and with that one open, I headed out the passage to the exit, finding one more switch. I flipped that lever, and heard a gong come from the stairwell room again.

I took the passage ahead, coming back out near the ruined barricade. To my right I could see the library, so I went left and back to the room with the stairwell. The door beside it was now open, so I went through, and found myself facing an odd shaped door with what looked like dentist chairs in it. To the right was a freezer door. Or maybe it was a cooler? Either way, a large metal door with a locked handle.

To my immediate right was an operating theater with several ghoul inside who were ripping the wooden slats off the door in an attempt to get out. I calmly raised my pistol, shooting one right in the eye. He was thrown aside as another ghoul took his place and I shot her right between the eyes. She was again replaced by another gimp suited ghoul, and my shot seperated his ear from his head. With a roar, he broke the last board as he charged me. I put two in his head, and three in the chest of the woman who followed. One last one darted out, moving fast in a zig-zag pattern. I tried to get a bead on him, but he always seemed one step ahead of my bullets.

Finally, with one last lunge, he tackled me to the floor just as the gun clicked empty. He was strong, but I used my potence to wrestle him him over onto his back. He wriggled around, trying to break my stronger grip, but I kept him somewhat pinned as I let go his left arm and grabbed him by the chin. With a rough wrench of my arm, I snapped his neck, feeling more than hearing the bones crack throughout my body.

Rolling his corpse off of me, I picked up my pistol and reloaded not only gun, but the empty clips I carried. How many ghouls did this guy have? And were they all ghouls? They might just be insane people who escaped their cells. But what cells? I hadn't seen any holding rooms at all.

I turned right, where the ghouls had come from and checked there, finding nothing but a key marked cooler. I took it, and went back to the cooler beside the dentist chairs and found the key unlocked the cooler. Inside, there were boxes upon boxes marked perishable. I opened one, finding it was full of blood bags from a blood bank. I immediately drank one, needing the red stuff as I was starting to get hungry. I then took five more, stashing them in my bag.

I went back out, finding another tape recorder sitting by the wall near the staircase leading down. I hit play, and listened to Doctor Grout's message.

"As I expand my dealings with the vampire government, I have encountered a disturbing new symptom of this affliction. Frequently, in conversation, I will hear voices emanating from other vampires. Voices that are not their own but which seem to have insight into their lives beyond what I could gather from simple conversation. These voices seem to echo from deep within my fellow vampires and I cannot be certain if this symptom belongs to my strain of illness or theirs, for the voices are various and inconsistent. I dare not mention this symptom to my vampiric peers, for they have proven themselves true predators to whom I could be loathe to reveal any sign of weakness. Indeed, these voices have counciled me against confessing their presence and until I can confirm their source, I will listen. The information the voices have given me ranges from curious to frightening. The latter is especially true of one powerful vampire whose name I shall not commit to recording in the interests of self preservation."

I thought about his words, then hit rewind on the tape. I listened to it again, paying particular attention to what was and wasn't being said. What became clear to me, was one of the kindred Grout met with was particularly powerful, and he was beginning to develop his inner voice Damsel had told me about. I hit rewind one more time, this time taking the tape off the recorder and slipping it into my bag. I didn't know what to do with it yet, but the good doctor deserved some kind of justification if I could prove his case.

I took the staircase down, where it seemed to drop a few stories under the house. I was just beginning to wonder if Grout had holed up down here when I came upon a set of doors. I opened them to a pair of ghouls. I raised my pistol, killing the one before he could do more than notice me. The other ghoul charged, and I put four in her chest, felling her to the floor.

Three more came around the corner, and I began to empty the clip into the mass of ghouls, barely dropping the last before another two came around the corner. I backpedaled like crazy, dropping the pistol and reaching for the shotgun under my arm. I didn't even unclip it, just yanked the gun into a ready position and fired blind. The first shot, took the ghoul right in the stomach, doubling him over to create a stumbling block for the other one. I racheted the mechanism, blasting the other ghoul in the head before racheting the mechanism again and finishing the first ghoul off.

I took a moment, waiting for more ghouls to appear. When none did, I took a few shotgun shells from my bag, and reloaded the shotgun until it was full loaded. I also unclipped it from the chord which still kept it anchored to my shoulder and folded out the stock. I went back to where I had dropped my pistol, picking it up and reloading it before stashing it with the safety off on my belt. I continued to follow the maze, though the doors I was now finding were the familiar style of an insane asylum with heavily reinforced doors and padded interiors.

I came around a corner, finding three more ghouls. I aimed at the first, putting a round of buck shot right into his chest, knocking him off his feet. The other two started to charge, and I began to zero in on them, putting two shots a piece into them, dropping both mid charge. I paused, reloading the shotgun, and continued on. I eventually entered some kind of concrete bunker style area, with an elevator shaft-like thing going back up to the main floors. Various beams blocked the shaft, creating a sort of ladder to the upper areas.

I folded the stock back up, slinging back on its chord under my shoulder, and started climbing the beams up the vertical shaft. It took a bit to climb to the top of the shaft, seeming to be over three stories of back and forth across the beams. When I got close to the top, one of the ghouls jumped from the top and landed on my back and wrapped his arms around me. I instinctively threw my arms up, breaking his hold on me which caused the ghoul to fall backwards down the shaft. I quickly grabbed the beam in front of me, and looked down.

The ghoul wasn't so fortunate, having hit his head on a beam on the way down and breaking his neck. Whether or not he was dead was moot, he wasn't able to bother me anymore. I continued climbing up, finally making into a large room. One of Grout's tape recorders sat on a nearby table, I sat in a chair, and gave it a listen.

"The voices have increased in frequency and direction of late. They have begun to stay with me long after conversation has ceased and are serving as quite a distraction. I fear others are beginning to notice my preoccupation at the vampire gatherings. I am thinking again of the particular vampire of whom I spoke of previously, who I dare not name for my growing fear. If the voices are to be believed, then my caution is warranted, for they speak of his blackest crimes both past and future. More than once I have seen the suspicion in his eyes and heard the distrust in his voice when speaking with me! The fear must register on my face for it is all I can do in these moments to keep from crying out in chorus with the voices!"

What Herr Mueller said about Doctor Grout acting odd came back to me. I took the tape and put it in my bag, then I pulled out my pistol, going through the doors and immediately found another tape recorder. I took a seat and hit play, and got just a bit more info on Grout.

"I am no longer safe - I know it! The voices have proven themselves authentic, and I have withdrawn from the vampire society entirely. My absence will no doubt draw attention, but I could no longer hold my fragile composure around the ravenous eyes of my vampire peers, especially not around him! The voices compelled me to make what I fear is a Faustian bargain. But I had to, for their demands are constant and merciless. I have secluded myself within the mansion. I know he will strike out at me. He will go to any length to achieve his ambitions, and he knows that I know!

I have taken precautions to protect my beloved wife. A cure will have to wait until our immediate safety is guaranteed. The mansion was constructed with security in mind, but at that time I was not privy to the full range of vampire capabilities! The voices echo in the twisted corridors of my psyche, dark whisperings of a macabre and formless menace, the approach of which portends an end, an end to all of this!"

I immediately pulled that tape, too, making sure I had the evidence that Grout was running from something, or someone. I still didn't know whom to take it to, yet. The Camarilla was a time bomb, with whomever this person was ready to intercept my good intentions and silence me. That thought really creeped me out. There were two I'd take for being nice at first, but secretly being evil. Lacroix, and Strauss. Lacroix was an easy pick because he was the man in charge, but Strauss? I really figured he was the one ready to upstage Lacroix if he was given the chance. Why else would he want me as a Primogen?

Neither point much mattered, unless I found Grout. I really hoped to find him alive, but that seemed doubtful at this point. I got up, held my pistol in both hands and headed through the door at the top of the stairs. What I found was a trophy room of sorts, or more aptly put, a mourning room. In the center of the room were the remains of Doctor Grout's wife. Around the room were memento's of their years together. I carefully walked around the room, going to the far side and finding the door their locked by dropbars.

Okay, it's the last piece of the puzzle. I looked back to the Missus Grout, seeing her with her arms wide and head back, almost like she's dancing. Dancing? My eyes fell on the old phonograph player by the entryway. Simplistic, but effective. I went to the phonograph, flipping the switch and hearing the old brass band come to life as it played. The mechanism under Missus Grout activated, turning her to face me. Once she faced me, the music ended and the draw bars on the far door lifted, unlocking it.

I went to the door, opening to find a bedroom. I cast my eyes on the bed, hoping to find Doctor Grout but nearly cried in frustration as I found the skeletal remains chained to the bed, a stake through the ribcage, and a pile of ash under the skeleton. Beside the bed was another tape recorder, and I wearily sat on the bed and hit play.

"My night has come. I realize that this will be my last message to she who has been sent. Take heart childe, for your nights will be many, but they come with a price. Your dark forebear has noticed you, and in his footsteps will you be protected when the time comes that you are to be hunted and killed as I have. I wish now that I had embraced these voices as the portrayers of truth they are, but that is of little consequence now. Report my death immediately, for only then will you discover the truth about the puppeteers behind your recent tasks, and the risks that lie for you ahead.

"Beware little one, for the nights are filled with savage predators who hide their true selves behind genteel manners and smiling faces. There are few the voices tell me to trust, and only one person in this city who doesn't have an ulterior motive for either of us. Find her, trust her. She can no longer help me, but she can help you. Miss Monroe..."

The tape cut off mid-sentence, the last thing I could hear was something in the background like slapping flesh, and I figured that was when he was staked. I took that tape too, needing to find out more about how my forebear walked so I could survive what Grout called my own hunt. That was uncomfortable to think about, but he said I could survive it if I walked like my dark forebear. I thought about it for a bit, then wondered who Miss Monroe could be. Surely he wasn't talking about Marilyn…

Damn! Marilyn Monroe? How could I be so blind. Of course, you don't expect to run into a living legend or have one drop by your apartment dressed in casual clothes, but to not see her after she revealed practically everything about herself? Oh, I was so blind.

I was shaken out of my reverie when an explosion shook the mansion underneath me and the ceiling fell in on the mourning room. With only one door left, I burst through to find myself overlooking the staircase room which was among my first finds. On the opposite side, on a balcony type overlook, was a large shouldered man who looked like he meant business.

"Grout! Lay low and be cleansed by the flames!" he yelled across to me.

A second explosion shook the mansion, and fired poured through room below us, making me back up a step in fear. "Grout's dead! Who are you!"

"Grout is dead! Pity it wasn't by my hand! No matter, soon your self-made kings and false prophets and all who bear the mark of the beast will be washed from the earth, for the coming of the Lord!"

"Hey, wait! I'm a Catholic! And I have done nothing to warrant this kind of condemnation!"

"Babble your tongue in the pits of the abyss! I will not hear it anymore!"

"But..." I started to say, but the guy cut me off.

"As you burn, tell them it was Grunfield Bach who sent your damned soul to that lake of fire! All agents of Satan shall return from whence they came!" He started to run, as the fire started to spread through the attic, causing the ceiling to fall. "Let this righteous display serve as a promise to all who serve the archfiend Lacroix! I'm coming for you, Lacroix! By the power of the Lord, I will cleanse your black soul!"

I looked the fire pit of a room over, it was going south fast in here, and I could feel my beast start to freak out. I shoved it down, then looked at the balcony on the far side. I didn't know where it led, but it had to lead out of here. It was time to figure out just how strong I was.

Lunging forward, I surged over the railing and landed on my feet. I didn't waste any time trying to fight the fire, just dodged the burning debris and headed across the room to the balcony on the other side. As I got close, I used my potence to strengthen my muscles and jumped up, managing to cling to the railing and hauling myself over to collapse on the floor. Another explosion shook the house, and I rolled to my feet, taking off after Bach with my pistol in my hand. I passed a few dead ghouls, my beast relaxing a bit as the fire hadn't spread here yet.

I followed the corridor around the corner just as another explosion rocked the floor underneath me. I looked back to see that the hall was engulfed in flames. At the end of the hall I took the first door on the right, finding myself in a spare bedroom. The window overlooking Downtown Los Angeles never looked so inviting, and I quickly opened the window, scrambled out and jumped to the ground below.

Some guy in a brown leather duster sat astride a motorcycle, as he tried to make the thing start. He didn't even notice me as I approached, but he had the same look as Bach. Vampire Hunters. Had to be. Well, the prey should have kept his guard up as I approached and pulled my pistol from its holster and bashed in the back of the guys head with the grip. He fell over, and I re-holstered my gun and used my strength to right the bike. I looked over the fuel system, finding the off switch for the fuel flow. As normal with rookies it was off, so I turned it on and sat on it. I held the clutch as I hit the starter switch, and the motor roared into life. Needing to get out of here before the neighbors up the hill called the cops, I tapped the transmission pedal down and let off the clutch slowly, and started trying to figure out how to ride a bike all over again. Maybe it would have been easier if I had driven one instead of having ridden one with my ex-boyfriend.

Because I was out of my element here. In more ways than one.


	22. Chapter 22 - Betraying Trust

Chapter 22 = Betraying Trust

September 30, 2004 = Thursday

Driving versus riding a motorcycle is like riding in a car versus driving it. You might see most of what was going on, but it's different than doing it yourself. Getting the rhythm of hitting the clutch while shifting the transmission was difficult, but soon I had the bike up over eighty-five. I tried to shift up again, but that was about as fast as it would go.

Not bad, making sure to remember that the shift pattern was one down and four up as I tooled it down the highway. I passed a few cars as I went along the main roads back to downtown, then figured I was going to need a map so I could find way around this town. Finding Lacroix tower, though, was easy. Follow the beacon.

Pulling up in front of Lacroix Tower, I parked it under a light to better examine it. First thing I noticed was it was a black with bright red striping on the gas tank and fenders, which seemed an odd accent to the dark color scheme. It had full seat, rolling over the rear wheel fender and gave it a nice little seat back, which made it comfortable to ride. There was also no back rest for the rear passenger, but there was a set of feet rests for the passenger which made me wonder who was riding with the hunter. The bike also had a set of saddlebags bolted over the rear wheel, giving me some space to store items and transport them to different places.

All in all, a good bike, and I was definitely thinking of keeping it. A painted emblem on the fuel tank caught my eye. I knelt down, adjusting the bike to better reflect the silver, black and red emblem. The Harley Davidson logo stood in stark relief, and I smiled. I thought I recognized the characteristic lub of a Harley motor, but I wasn't sure. Well, definitely keeping it. If for no other reason than so I could split lanes to cut through traffic when returning home.

I crossed over the street to the tower, and went in. Chunk sat at the front desk, throwing tator tots in the air to catch them with his mouth. He stopped as I got near, then smiled as he wiped his salty fingers on his pants.

"Evening," he said, then sniffed and shook his head. "You smell something burning? Smells like someone burnt the burgers."

I feigned sniffing, then looked at him, smiling at the security guard. "I don't smell anything. I've got an appointment with Lacroix. He's expecting me."

"Sure, I'll open her up," he said, and I started walking around the security post to the main elevators, as Chunk leaned back in his chair and began talking again. "Aw geez, I could go for I could go for one of them double Space Burgers, with the onions, the cheese, some bacon and that guacomole..."

I was thankfully spared his choice of greasy food items as the elevator doors sealed me in and I ascended to Camarilla Offices. The doors opened and as I stepped through to head for Lacroix's private lift, caught sight of a familiar face down a corridor.

"Jean!" I called, making the former legend stop. I hurried down the hall as fast as my heeled feet could carry me until I was standing right beside her. She was slightly hunched over with her arms around her middle and her face had a sour look to it. "Hey, you alright?"

"I will be. Just so you know, there's a trial tomorrow at nine. Masquerade breaker by the name of Jose. He was a Brujah," she said, not really looking at me. "After his trial, his ghoul will be presented to find out if anyone wants to add her to their personal coterie."

"Jean, that doesn't answer my question," I said, getting concerned. "All you alright? You seem out of it."

"Yeah, it's just," she paused, looking down at her boots. "Being a deputy in the Camarilla isn't always about bringing in the bad guy. We have to keep the masquerade, too. Jose, he...he lost control of his beast and killed three people. Then he fed from some poor girl while her best friend watched. We found out when she called 911 screaming for help about a monster, and we got there first. Jose is staked and I..." Jean paused as she wrapped her arms tighter around herself. She didn't need to finish, I already could guess what happened next.

We were kindred. Our very existence is a secret we kill to protect. With such a blatant violation, there was no way of playing it off, so Jean had killed the poor girl for nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. For the Gangrel though, she obviously didn't like having to kill the innocent, but she had done it and was having remorse over it. I wrapped my arms around her, and gave her a hug. She returned the hug, briefly, before straightening up.

"Thanks," she said. "So what rock did Grout hide under?"

"He was killed," I told her, deciding not to tell her then about Nines. "I found his remains tied to his bed with a stake in his ribcage. The rest of him was ash on his bed."

Jean nodded, "Did you have to burn the house down?"

"I think they were vampire hunters, and they seemed to know Grout was kindred. They torched his house, I barely got out of their alive," I told her, her eyes wide at the horror I spoke of. "One of the hunters is a newbie with motorcycles, and I waylaid him before he could leave. Left him out cold in front of Grout's and left on his Harley."

"Nice, at least you got something out of it, besides becoming fertilizer."

"Yeah, thinking of keeping it, so I don't get stuck in traffic again," I told her, as she began walking deeper into the tower. "I got burned by the sun when I got stuck in traffic."

"A hog would do it," she agreed as we turned some corner and reached a door. "Well, I have to meet with the other deputies and figure out if we're needed anywhere. Seems like there's always a fire to put out."

"If you need someone to talk to, you can always talk to me, okay? It's the least I can do Marilyn," I told her.

"Finally figure it out? Yeah, keep it to yourself, okay? I wouldn't have even admitted what I did if it wasn't for your blood doll," she told me.

"You know, if she remembers seeing you, and that she was too out of it to do more than mumble, she's going to stake me."

"Maybe I'll drop by again sometime," she said, opening the door and slipping inside. I got a glimpse of a room full of people, most in T-shirts and polos, with a few men in suits. All looked capable, and that was enough to ensure I never wanted to break masquerade. I wouldn't last.

With nothing left to anchor me to the door, I began to drift down the hallways, trying to figure out where the elevators were when I heard a pair of voices coming towards me. One was very German and loud, while the other was more restrained, but familiar. Herr Mueller and Regent Strauss. I could feel my beast stir, so I looked around for a hiding spot, then ducked inside a door. Turned out to be a maintenance closet, and pressed my ear to the door. I silently wished I could see what was going on, when my perspective changed and I had a bird's eye view of outside.

"And I say she'd be better kept from returning to the Sabbat if we had made her a primogen! Her desire for personal power would have ensured she stayed with the Camarilla!" Strauss said through clenched teeth.

"That mewling hündin won't be allowed from under her boon to the Prince until we have her so buried under favors that she can't even function. And as Harpy, I will make sure of it!" Herr Mueller yelled back. I didn't know what he called me, but I was tempted to drop in on them and call him out for it.

"She is more powerful than we give her credit for, and your tactic of a suicide run may not have driven a large enough wedge between her and Andrei. She is just a fledgling struggling to survive, not hours old when we ripped her from their clutches. She may still return!"

"And if she does leave while owing so much as a boon, I'll call her in contempt and have the Sheriff bring her to trial. Let us Ventrue handle the Lasombra, Strauss. Return to your chantry and train your people in your blood magics. It's what you know best," he said, uttering the last sentence as he walked away.

I 'turned' to see where he went, and Strauss gazed upwards, seemingly looking at me. If my form still had eyes, we would have been staring at each other. It was Strauss who broke the staring contest, as he shook his head. "I fear she is far more powerful than even I give her credit for," he said, walking away. I watched him go, waiting until he had rounded a corner before I let myself snap back into my body. It was an odd experience, existing that way, and I had to try that again sometime if only to figure out what had happened.

I left the closet, heading down the hallways before finding a sign with directions back to the elevator. It wasn't far and soon I was heading up to the prince. I couldn't help think of what Herr Mueller said about not getting out from under my boon. If I couldn't force the prince to settle it, I was going to be stuck working for him for many long nights. There had to be a way out, maybe if I somehow got the harpy changed to another person, they might release me. I also needed to know if their were any rules about boons and how they were paid.

Once at the elevator, I took it up to the top where the men guarding the door opened it to allow me in. Lacroix stood behind his desk, going through various pieces of paperwork. The Sheriff still stood right behind him, the large sword very visible on his back. I was noticed as I walked through the large room, my heels clicking on the floor.

"The primogen still haven't been contacted by Grout. I thought I made it clear that you were not supposed to come back until we had heard from him."

"Grout was staked and murdered. I found his remains in his room," I told him as I came to stand before his desk.

"Grout is dead? What proof do you bring of this?"

"None. A German hunter named Bach set his house on fire. I barely escaped."

"Bach! Every time I think he's lost the scent. So Bach killed Grout to draw me out."

"Bach arrived to the house long after I did," I told him. I really didn't want to report this next part, but I felt I had to. I really hated politics. "On my way into Bach's home, I saw Nines Rodriguez leaving. He was scared, but I'm sure it was him."

"Look at me, Miss Flores," he said and I looked into his eyes. "Are you sure it was Nines Rodriguez? Because if it was, the consequences… Do you know where this might lead? Do you really have any idea?"

"Civil war between the Camarilla and the Anarchs? A war that might break the masquerade and reveal our very existence to the kine," I said, again looking at the floor. Why did I feel like I was betraying Nine's trust.

"That is correct," he said, sitting to his desk. "My first action, would be to call a blood hunt for Mister Rodriguez. This would result in heightened tensions, and may even be considered an act of war. I do not want a war with them, so this decision will take some time while I confer with the Primogen.

"In the meantime, I've come to a decision about the Ankaran Sarcophagus, and I believe that for the safety of the inhabitants of this city, we need to place the Sarcophagus under Camarilla protection, until its contents can be confirmed."

"I understand, sir, but as I've already completed three tasks for you, should not my debt be settled?"

Lacroix looked at me for a moment, then nodded. "Quite right, fledgling. I will release you from your boon. How are you doing for funds?"

"Quite well actually. I've managed to secure a few ghouls that have a working income, as well as do a few tasks for Scourge Walsh. To date since my trial, I've managed to acquire almost ten thousand dollars."

"That is...remarkable," he told me, his face giving hint at surprise. "It almost saddens me that you were embraced as a Lasombra, as many Ventrue childer are not as quick thinking as you seem to be. You would have made an excellent Ventrue."

"The few kindred I have talked to are surprised by my resourcefulness. I would like to think that it is all skill, but mostly it's just luck and being at the right time."

"Such is the way with many schemes. Only the quick witted can truly capitalize on the opportunities that present themselves in these dark nights. To such, I am prepared to offer you an investment into your future. Five million dollars."

"All for the price of a boon?" I said, and he nodded. It was tempting, but I wasn't wanting to risk not getting away again. "I think I'll pass."

"I think, you'll take it," he said, and I couldn't help but finding myself agreeing with him. He wrote something on a sheet of paper, then handed it to me. I found it a note to Scourge Walsh to deliver five million to me however I wished to take it. I then looked back at the prince.

"So, when does the sarcophagus become available?"

It's not due for delivery to the museum until Saturday night. I want you to take it then, as right now it's under lock and key in a police building and I don't want to risk revealing ourselves if we don't have to. This will give you a few nights to acquire a proper haven. Also, keep an eye out for a small box. It's from the same dig, and was listed as missing, but may have simply been overlooked. It's crucial we get the sarcophagus secure before anything can happen."

"Yes, sir. I'll bring it back on Saturday night then," I said, then feeling dismissed, turned and left. I walked out the door and took the elevator down, feeling giddy about receiving five million dollars for a few tasks.

As I re-entered the elevator and descended to talk with Walsh about my newly acquired millions, a strange sensation of vertigo hit me. As it settled and I could see clearly again, it was like I was watching myself back in the prince's office and seeing more of what was going on. This time though, I saw I had said "I think I'll pass," before accepting the offer.

'That son of a bitch,' I mentally cursed as it hit me. Damsel's warning about Ventrue and how they could make you do whatever they say came to mind. He said I should take it, and I had. Damn! I was just rooked and not give the courtesy of lubrication.

My good mood soured as I rode the elevator down. I exited to find Walsh was coming down the hall towards me.

"Miss Flores," he called, and I waited for him. "I was just giving my deputies their nightly duties when I got the call. If you will follow me?" he said and I followed him down the hall to his office. He took a seat behind his desk while I sat opposite him and handed him the paper the prince had given me. He whistled as he read it, then placed it in a paper shredder and ran it through.

"How would you like your five million? Cash, check, or money order?"

"If I had a bank account still, I would say check," I told him.

"Never got around to reading the binder that listed our services, have you? We Ventrue are the primary banking institution around the world. Essentially, all money is play money to us. So," he started to say, before turning to a filing cabinet and pulling out a sheathe of paperwork. "Let's get you started."

We began going through the paperwork, and he reached into the cabinet again in another drawer for another sheathe of paperwork. "Let's get this started properly. I need to establish an identity for you, first. The name you wish to use?"

"Eliza Leya Flores," I told him, wishing to continue using my birth name.

He paused before writing anything down. "Do you want to try a different spelling of the name? To make it more difficult to be confused with your previous life?"

"The masquerade," I mumbled. "Make it Elisa Leia Flores, with an 'S' in the first name instead of a 'Z.' As for my middle name, spell it L-E-I-A, like the princess from Star Wars." Walsh began writing it down, smiling a bit as he found something funny.

"Do you know your initials are elf?" he asked, not hardly keeping the humor to himself as he filled out paperwork.

"My mother was a Tolkien fan," I said, remembering the times I dressed the part of Arwen in as angelic a costume as mom could make. "She used to dress me up as Arwen at Halloween, taught me to walk with grace and not just barge in everywhere."

Walsh made a small hum of acknowledgment as he filled out boxes. "I'm leaving you as a Latino, though you could probably pass for Italian with your faded tone. Is there a specific birthday you would like to use?"

"My original birthday was June 2, 1984. Why not make it June 12, 1984, so nothing changes but one number."

"Smart, then if you forget when writing it down, the one is easily added," he said as he continued to write. "Any special regards on your license I need to put down? Glasses? Motorcycle endorsement maybe?"

"Both, I guess. I need to start wearing sunglasses for when I'm in public. My eyes..."

"I wasn't going to comment, but what happened?"

"I was held up in traffic this morning. I got burned by the sun while attempting to secure myself in my haven. Ever since, my eyes haven't existed, even though my face itself was burned."

"I saw a Lasombra once. He was about my age. This was in New York City back during the Depression when many Ventrue saw their businesses suffer as Wall Street fell apart around us. His eyes also looked like yours," he said, as he pulled a yellow highlighter from his pen holder and began highlighting spots on the pages in front of him. "I must admit, it's disquieting, not seeing a person's eyes. From what I gather, it happens to all of your clan in time."

"Hooray for me," I nearly groaned as Walsh continued writing.

"The easiest way of securing your property and bank account is through a corporation, as it doesn't require the owner to really be registered anywhere. This makes it easier for our ghouls to be a front for our interests, while we hide our assets in plain sight. Many CEO's and corporate leaders today don't truly own their property, they are owned by the corporation behind the man. It makes it somewhat easier to pass a property through the years. That said, are you interested in starting your own corporation?"

I thought it over. "I would have to pay taxes on a corporation right? This isn't a free ride as if I were playing dead?"

"Double taxes, actually. All money is taxed as it comes in and as it goes out. You would also be required to pay taxes on all property owned, ghouls who would be paid would be required to be put on payroll, and that's costly."

"But as a corporate entity, I'd be entitled to live again? To buy and sell property openly, have checking accounts, all while not actually existing."

"Correct. If you choose to drive yourself, you will still need a driver's license, which I have those forms ready for you to sign," he said, as he readied another form. "So, do you have a business name you would like to use?"

I had to think on that one. What was a good name for a kindred corporation? I thought several names over, then decided I could honor my mother at least, and name the corporation after her favorite species. "Elven Incorporated."

Walsh lifted an eyebrow at that, a smile quirking his lips as he continued to write among the now myriad pages on his desk. Then he he began turning pages around and offered me a pen to sign with. "Just sign where it's highlighted, and please make sure to use the now correct spelling of your name."

I signed where he showed me, handing him his pen when I was done. He started to arrange all the paperwork, then filed it in a folder. "That just leaves your picture, which we can take just down the hall," he said as he stood up with the folder under his arm.

"There's a slight problem with that," I said, standing beside him. "My clan has no reflection. That also means that modern cameras don't pick me up at all. Even objects I'm holding or wearing don't show up."

Walsh stopped at that. "That means you cannot take your own driver's license photo."

I shrugged, "Added expense? Try holding a casting call for Latino women who match my physical description. It shouldn't take too long to find a possible look alike," I said, thinking about some of the ideas I had on how I might do a photo.

"Until then, Miss Flores, try not to get caught riding that new motorcycle of yours," he said smiling. "I will have a ghoul bring over your new checkbook, birth certificate and social security card, and as soon as we have a viable replacement for your photo, we will have it shipped over as well."

"Thank you, Scourge Walsh," I said, glad to have at least that much taken care of tonight. "I'll be sure to have my ghoul talk to your ghoul about those properties. I really am looking forward to getting things started in earnest now that I have the funds to start my own endeavors."

Walsh looked uncertain, and I was just turning to walk away when he finally said. "Would you care to take a bet?"

That had my interest. "On?" I prodded as I turned back to face him.

Walsh grimaced as he chose his next words. "Many successful businesses are started and ran entirely by mortals. However, there are some that we," he looked down as if choosing his next words as if his life depended on them, "make games of. See, almost every kindred needs money in one form or another to survive. Sometimes, they start their own company. Some, like us Ventrue continue operating their business or reap the rewards of a title for as long as we can in this new life. Many others use their funds to become silent partners in a kine's business."

"This is building up to something, I know it," I said, smiling at the thought that maybe I could upstage the Ventrue again. Something about that made my inner beast dance with excitement.

"There is a business, a local one, that we have made a game of to try and control in one form or another. The owner is, tenacious, and has sought help of an illegitimate sort to keep we kindred out of her till."

"So, what are the rules and the stakes?" I asked, wanting to know what the deal was that the kindred of this city had failed to ghoul a simple mortal.

"She has to accept her status willingly, so no using any vampiric powers to coerce her into being a ghoul or partner. The kindred who will win must become, by either ghouling her, or by getting her to sign a contract stating that they either own a portion of her business or possess her loan, thereby receiving payments from her."

"Sounds simple," I said, thinking it over. If all you had to do was somehow become the kindred behind the woman, how hard could it be? "So what does it take to get in on it?"

"A million dollars or a boon to be owed to the winner," he said, smiling. "It sounds simple, but I offered her ten million once for her business and she refused to sell. The Toreador's in town who are trying have run off all of the good talent from her club and she gets by now on second-rate garage bands and third-rate techno remixes. Still, somehow, even after two years of having this bet, and many Ventrue having offered to buy out her loan or repay it, she persists. Even the man who owns her loan, Boris Checkov, refuses to let anyone take the loan from him. So there is nothing simple about this wager."

"Mind if I ask what the pot is up to?"

"Currently, I'd say over twenty million with about twelve boons attached to it. One buy in gets you all the access you want, and as many tries to succeed. Once the debt is settled, the Toreador's will allow the talent to play their again, so it's not as if you are buying into a failed venture."

I thought the debt over, and decided that the prince was right about one thing. You had to capitalize on the opportunities as they presented themselves, and this was definitely an opportunity. Well, time to open the door. "I'm in. One million dollars. I guess I can thank the prince for at least getting me this far," I said, smiling back at Walsh as he led me back to the elevator.

"The club in question is called Confession. The lady in question goes by the name Venus Dare. No one knows her real name, but that's the stage name she uses and is known by. If you are successful, or have questions, you can call me. You still have your phone yes?"

"Mainly use it for calling the cab company," I said, waiting on the elevator. "But if I have a question, I'll contact you. Or if there's a masquerade violation to report, such as the rampaging Brujah I heard about. Trial's tomorrow at nine right?"

"Nocturne theater, where you had your trial. Jose will not likely be so lucky," he said as the elevator arrived and the doors opened.

"Such is the masquerade, right?"

"Correct, There's nothing we can do about your motorcycle at present, but there are shops where you might be able to buy a replacement VIN number that can be safely registered. At the Last Round, where the Anarchs like to keep their company, you can find a man named Skelter. He's got a few friends in the illegal car trade and might know someone who can get you a proper VIN."

"Thank you, Walsh. I'm headed by that way later to talk to Damsel. She's on the trail of some more plaguebearers. Apparently, they have some sort of cult going and we're tracking them down."

"Keep me apprised of any you find. Names and clan affiliations would be helpful, or at least any supernatural powers they possess. And," he said, pausing as he looked at me. "Be careful. Jean is not one I would normally use for a deputy, but she came with thirty plus years of bounty hunting experience. She is also quite resilient to harm. You don't have those same luxuries."

"I'll be careful. The last thing I want to do is win that bet and then wind up as a pile of ash," I said, letting the doors close between us. Walsh smiled as the doors closed and I descended to the ground floor. I didn't stop to talk to Chunk as I left, heading straight out the doors to my ride. I sat on the seat, then went through the startup list and fired the engine into life.

I headed down the street, going straight to the Last Round. I spun the bike around, and parked it in front of the bar and shut down my ride. Leaving it parked at the curb, I walked inside. Damsel wasn't at her usual spot at the bottom of the stairs, which surprised me. I went upstairs anyway, finding a large kindred with a mean look to his eyes guarding the stairs from the top. He was dressed in military style, with canvas pants and military style boots.

"Well! If it ain't the talk of the town, poster child for Camarilla benevolence. What does the prince have his Lasombra bitch doing today?"

"I'm here to see Nines. I got a problem and he better have answers," I said, stopping and crossing my arms. He better have good answers anyway.

"Well then go on up to him. Nobody stopping ya," he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm common with hood rats. I hated guys like him when I was alive, always making a girl feel scared and dirty, and I was so not taking his bull tonight. I walked past him, my heels smartly tapping out my lack of patience and even Nines looked edgy.

"Yo, kid. What's up," he said, his voice deep and calm despite the twitchy right hand.

"I need an answer, Nines. Were you, or were you not at Grout's mansion tonight?" I asked him pointedly.

"I wasn't. I was actually out tending to business, had a new pack of Sabbat hit Anaheim. They won't hit anything but an urn now."

"Then, until your crew calls you, get out of LA. Tonight. Someone is setting you up and making me the patsy."

"Kid, you better start explaining yourself on that," military guy said behind me, moving to block the exit.

I turned so I had both military guy and Nines in sight, with my back to a wall and Jack right in front of me. Jack appeared to be fondling something under the table, and I don't think it was a bouquet of flowers. "I saw someone who could be Nines' twin leave Grout's and just reported that back to the prince. Grout is now dead, and the prince is going to blame Nines."

I was glad I turned to keep military guy in sight as he rushed me shouting, "You measly fuck!" I caught his wild swing with a Miyagi block of my left arm, then used my knee in an attempt to break his family jewels before tossing him down the stairs. Jack rose to his feet, leveling a shotgun my way, and I moved before anyone could think, including myself. I now stood BEHIND Jack, who said, "What the hell!" before I jumped back to brace against the wall and mule kick him across the bar.

I looked at Nines, who had pulled his big gun and had it trained on me. "Calm down, kid. If I thought you were here to kill me, I doubt you'd waste time with words."

"They started it," I said, crossing my arms and leaning into the dark corner. Nines harrumphed at that, holstering his pistol and leaned up against the wall.

"And here I thought I was going to have to keep saving your ass. That's a neat trick, though. How fast is that? A hundred? Two?"

"Um," I said, recalling how I just appeared behind Jack, my vision only blacking out for a second as I thought I had moved, then my mind went back to Star Trek. "Instantaneous transport? I think I jumped here," I said, then a brief flash of memory made me realize, I went through the shadows to do it. "I jumped here through the shadows?"

"That's a neat trick," Nines said, as Jack got to his feet and military guy climbed back up to join us. "You two boys need to apologize to the lady. You were out of line just attacking her like that, especially in Elysium. She has every right to call the sheriff and haul you two boys off to Trial."

Jack stared daggers at me, while military guy hung his head. "I did it again, didn't I Nines?"

"Yeah, Skelter. You did. I warned you about that. We can't keep up a war with the Camarilla if they keep chipping away at our people. She came here to warn me, and you jumped her. Nice moves, kid. Where were they when the Sabbat had you cornered?"

"Just a cheap karate trick from a movie. Skelter right? Know where I can get a VIN number changed on a Harley Davidson?"

"I know a few places," he said, relief at being let off the hook making him relax. "Give me a night or two to line something out. We good?"

"Yeah, we're good. I'm actually getting fond of it."

"Well, Jack," Nines said, still leaned against the wall.

"Scraped better kindred off my boots," he muttered, before reaching down to pick up his shotgun and going down the stairs and out of sight. It wasn't long before we heard the bar door slam hard.

"If anyone sees him again, tell him it's cool. I know he's trying to protect a friend, and I can respect that."

"Glad to see we're all on the same page. Now, someone mind telling me what the hell happened and why Jack is muttering like a possessed man?" Damsel barked from the stairwell. At least I think it was Damsel. The hair was red like hers, and the voice matched, but that body? Damsel wasn't a hottie and, Oh! I needed my head examined.

"Damsel, you doll up good," Nine said. "Kid here was just telling me Lacroix has it in for my hide. Apparently, he got some Nos to do themselves up as me and kill Grout."

"And she was there just out of the goodness of Lacroix's heart? He knows we won't buy it." Damsel said, arms crossed across her chest. Yeah, that was Damsel and she really looked different in a dress.

"The primogen sent me there because Grout failed to make it to the meeting last night. Lacroix sent me as a quick stop gap measure to keep the meeting going. He even asked them if sending me was acceptable. IF he is the man Grout was talking about, then we got problems."

"What do you mean, 'the man Grout was talking about?' Am I missing something here." Damsel asked.

I pulled the old reel to reel tapes I had taken from the mansion out of my bag and held them up. "Grout recorded messages and had them strung throughout his mansion. Each one painted a scene of his life and led me to the end. Near the end, after Grout had mentioned being made Primogen, his inner voice started to flare up, and told him a lot. Someone he knew, a very powerful someone, came for him to kill him. That someone can only either be Lacroix or Strauss."

"My money's on Lacroix," Nines said. "That son of a bitch thinks he can take LA from the Anarchs by framing me for murder. It don't make any sense for it to be Strauss. The mage has nothing to gain."

"Like you can trust any of them," Damsel shot back.

"Strauss at least plays fair. You might not always know what his overall plan is, but even if it goes against him, he treats you fair. Lacroix, though? The only place he belongs is in a barbecue pit."

"No arguments here. So, what do we do?" I said, bringing the brainstorming session back to reality.

"I can hide out, use the slums to feed from. It's best if you don't know exactly where kid. No offense, but you are currently in tight with the Camarilla. Your allegiance is your own choice, but I can't risk my life on a chance," Nines said, looking me in the eye as he said it. I felt respect for the man, and had to agree with his choice.

"Then we'll leave it at that. What should I do with these tapes?"

"Take them to Strauss. Call it evidence of a powerful presence doing harm in the city and you don't know whom to trust in the Camarilla. Strauss tried to get you on their precious council, so he has to think something of you. You can play that back and see if he'll bite. He does, its one more ace up our sleeve to pit against Lacroix when the times right."

"I guess that war Lacroix warned me about is about to happen," I said, sadness entering my voice. I didn't want to have to choose sides yet, I just didn't know whom was right.

"Yeah, it's about to start. Maybe a month away, maybe less. Don't know how it's going to go right now. We lost so many in the past few years, and more have swapped sides or are riding the fence and don't want to get involved. The Camarilla doesn't really have us outnumbered, just outgunned with that brute of a sheriff."

"If it comes to it, we can get the sheriff," Skelter said, eying me from across the room. "I'd love to introduce him to the wonders of the modern military."

"Modern, hell, introduce his ass to a flamethrower," Damsel said, proving she was still tart and tiny as always.

"I'm just going to go, let you guys plan your war," I said, as I started weaving my way through the tables back to the stairs.

"Thanks for the heads up, kid. Likely we wouldn't have know about it until every deputy showed up on our doorstep demanding my blood," Nines told me. "That could have gotten hairy."

"They wouldn't take any prisoners, would they?" I asked him.

"Not me," he said, his voice had a hint of sadness in it. "It's just that I'm probably the last person who can keep the Anarchs from falling apart completely. Even Isaac isn't as vocal about the cause as he used to be."

"Figure it out, Nines," I said, as I stepped down the first step, "Otherwise, kiss the cause goodbye." I continued down the stairs and back out the door. I was just about to hit the ignition when Damsel came running out, her skirt picked up in her hand to keep the hem from getting dirty.

"Hey," she said, and I sat back to give her a moment to get down the stairs. "I got word about a new plaguebearer. Some guy named Tin Can Bill said he was kidnapped by a monster and taken underground. From what he described, I'd say it was a Nos. He's down by the Griffith overpass."

"Thanks, Damsel," I said, "I'll go check it out."

"Love the ride," she said, trying to not to smile. "Harley Fatboy? These things were all the rage ten years ago. Still a good ride. You're going to have to take me out sometime."

"Know any good spots," I asked, not sure about LA area. I was raised a bit further up the coast, and not sure of the local area.

"I know a few spots that are excellent for riding. Even know a few good overlooks if you want to stop and look at the stars," she said, cocking a hip and smiling at me.

I smiled, thoughts of me and Damsel parked out on some lonely hilltop with nothing between us but the night running wild through my mind. I had to admit, I was attracted, I just didn't know how to show it. Guys at least were easy. Show any interest at all and the follow you like a puppy dog. But another woman? "I need to track this guy down fast, Damsel. Unfortunately, this disease doesn't take long to kill, and it seems I'm already a day late."

"Yeah," she said, seeming to deflate. "Best get a move on."

I hit the starter, slipping the bike into gear and easing off. I really needed dating advice.


	23. Chapter 23 - Rising Shadow

Chapter 23 – Rising Shadow

September 30, 2004 = Thursday

I rode my Harley down the street, hoping I was heading the right way. Griffith Street was actually an easy find not a few blocks away, so I turned south and found the overpass for I-10. I parked underneath it, pulling the key so it was less likely to be stolen. I looked around, seeing a few old abandoned cars, then I heard it.

Coughing.

I followed the sound to a guy leaned up against a building. He was drinking from a large bottle, and just downed the last of it before attempting to toss the empty bottle away only to have it fall beside him and not even break. I walked up to him, kneeling beside him as he tried to physically cough up a lung. He reminded me of Hannah, how she sounded right before she died, and I was glad I hurried over to find him. His eyes were already glossing over, and I shook him a bit to rouse him.

"Betty? That you?" he said, before coughing again. "I ain't got no booze tonight, so you may as well get out of here before you get sick too."

"It's not Betty," I told him, trying to keep him upright. "I heard you were kidnapped by a monster, Bill. I need to find him, so where is he?"

"I might be able to tell ya," he said, coughing again. I couldn't help but notice the thin red line form at the corner of his mouth. "But I'm awful thirsty tonight miss, and I done run out. Spare five bucks for a man down on his luck?"

"Sure," I said, trying to sound happy when I was pissed. This damn plague didn't need to be, and another one was about to die. I pulled a bill from my bag and held it up. "Just tell me where."

Bill started to laugh, but quickly turned into coughing. "He came up out of that manhole down the alley," he said, barely lifting his hand to point towards it. "I been watching for him, see if he comes back out, but he hasn't showed yet."

"Thanks," I said, handing the man the money. The man tried to stand, but ended up falling back against the wall.

"I think I need a rest," he said, his eyes rolling back in his head. I laid him back against the wall, where he seemed to pass out. He was still breathing, so I let him sleep peacefully while he could.

I went over to the manhole cover, using my potence to lift it and set it aside. This didn't seem to be a sewage line, to which I was thankful for, but a utility maintenance line. The room it opened up into was bare concrete, with anything beyond lost to the shadows, so I switched over to my shadow vision. I could see the room much better now, so I continued on, heading down a dark corridor for several hundred feet before coming on a set of steel bars that looked more reminiscent of a set of prison bars with a swinging door.

I pushed on the door to find it unlocked, and headed through into a large, dimly lit room with corpses hung on the wall, entrails spilling out. I walked into the room, and a man misted into existence in front of me. I could tell by his grotesque appearance he was a Nosferatu, dressed in ragged pants with no other clothes visible and an earring hanging from a leathery ear, but his skin was pulled so tight over his head it was ripping apart, revealing the pink flesh beneath.

"Found your way down here, did you? Looking for a free meal, little bloodsucker? Follow the smell of entrails and rotting flesh to my kingdom?" he said, almost growling every word. He was probably American, but his growling voice made it hard to tell if he was local or not.

I looked around my surroundings, at the various bodies strung up on the walls and decided it truly was a cult. But why hang them up like this? So I asked, "What's going on down here?"

"The doors have been opened, the seals broken, and the final steps into the abyss; the terrible mysteries of the ninth circle!"

I laughed a bit. "You know nothing of shadows," I told him, my anger at his callous regard for life causing the room to darken around us. He sneered, at me, then pulled a piece of paper from behind his back.

"The darkest dawn is almost upon us! Join us in these last nights, spreading our disease upon the earth, and share this unholy communion with our human herd!"

"You got a name I can tell the Scourge to collect on your masquerade breaking hide?" I asked him.

"Brother Kanker, they call me. High Lord in the diseased halls of the dead. Look around you!" He said, waving his arms at the hanging corpses, "The blood, the maggot-ridden mortal shells, These are the signs, the coming of a new age!"

I pulled my pistol from its holster. "I think it's time someone pulled your card."

He charged me, and I barely got my gun up before we were grappling on the floor. Surprisingly, he wasn't as strong in his potence as I was, and I managed to line the gun up with his face before he did something unexpected. With me using all my force to line the gun up, he suddenly yanked my arm in that same direction, and I felt my shoulder pop out of place.

I kicked him away, screaming from the pain. My gun fell from my now limp arm, and I rolled to my knees. Kanker came up, grinning wickedly at me as he saw me practically defenseless on my knees. I smiled, pulling on the shadows, intent on enveloping him in the darkness so scary that it could kill. Kanker saw the shadows start to envelope him and he tackled me, pulling me in along with him.

In the inky blackness, Kanker screamed at something he saw and I rolled free, my right arm still useless. I looked around, seeing a man walking towards us. He was tall and lithe, with white milky skin and long dark hair. His eyes were black pits of blackness, and he caught Kanker in one arm, lifting the Nos into the air as if holding a winning ticket.

"You, are a diseased sewer rat," the man told the Nos. He gave a shake of his hand, and the Nos crumpled to ash at his feet. I stood as the man approached me, and I couldn't help but feel fear. I was sure I'd never seen him before, but yet he seemed so familiar to me.

"Should I know you?" I asked him, not sure if I should try to communicate with him or not.

"You should, young one. You intrigue me," he said, walking around me and studying me closely. "You have done by accident what few do by intent. And here you are again in the Void, facing me."

"And yet you have not given me your name. What might I call you?"

"I was known by many names, and you carry one of those names still, childe," he said, his odd accent hinting to Europe. I tried to think, why would he be familiar, and have a name I carry?

"You're Lasombra?" I breathed, as he came to stand back in front of me. He nodded, then grinned at me and scared me down to my soul.

"My own childe, Montano, banished me here. I was blinded to the true nature of the Void then, and let it happen. That was many centuries ago," he said, drawing his words out. I tried to figure his intentions, then decided to just ask.

"So, what do you want from me?" I asked him.

"I wish to be free of this prison. My power is limited here. I can see out, but I cannot affect the events that are unfolding. I will be free of this prison, young one, and you will be my vessel to freedom."

I stepped back, afraid of what he might do. "And how do you intend to bring this about?" I asked him.

His smile deepened, and then with a sudden movement jumped towards me. I never felt him hit me, but my beast suddenly roared to life, crawling through my skin from my hair to my toes. I clawed at my skin, but there wasn't anything to grab hold of. I could feel something in me, and I fell to my knees as things in me felt like they were shifting. I struggled with the pain, and soon it eased, leaving me very hungry.

I rose from the ground, dusting myself off. I turned to leave, when my I heard a paper crunch under my heel. I picked it up, finding it said 'I am enlightened' in fancy script. There was a large drawing in the middle of the page, and I couldn't help think that it might be a way of identifying the cult. It was a bloody star, with a fanged skull in the center of it, and I stowed it in my bag, then left the Nos's lair.

My bike was where I left it, and I put the key back in it and started it up. I started to cruise the streets, checking for that symbol. It was likely to be ignored as graffiti, so I went slow, finally finding it after almost an hour of searching. I ducked down the alley it was marked on, finding that there was a door that had the same mark on it about halfway down. I parked my bike next to it, then went in. It looked like some sort of old doctor's office, with run down chairs around the wall and large glass windows with one of those teller slots in the middle one.

I walked to the slot, finding a dark-skinned man behind the glass waiting for people to arrive while he read a book. He closed the book as he noticed me. "What's up, sister," he said, eying me. "You enlightened?"

I pulled the flier I had and slipped it through the slot, as I looked at the shadows behind him. Somehow I knew I could just jump straight out of it if I wanted. The man looked at the flyer before setting aside. "I see. The Bishop is upstairs. He'll be seeing you now."

"Is the Bishop the one in charge of everything?" I asked him, wanting to make sure all the plaguebearers would be stopped, or if more were out there.

"He is. The kindred of the city aren't very welcoming of his message, so currently it's just him, Brother Kanker, and Sister Celeste."

"Well, thank you for that information, ghoul. But I'm here for the Bishop, and I'll take care of Celeste later," I said, and his face went slack as he realized what I was here to do. I jumped through the shadow, coming out behind him and knocked him against the glass as he reached for something I couldn't see. I pulled my pistol, aiming for his head as he slumped down. With a gentle squeeze of the trigger, I ended his life.

I then pulled out the pistol he was reaching for, an ugly little revolver that had a rhino engraved on the side in front of the drum with 'Rhino 50DS' written there. Under that it read '.357 Magnum.' I didn't know if that was any good or not, so I stashed it in my bag. I didn't know much about guns, but the numbering system was messed up.

With my Glock in hand, I went through the side door, finding myself in some kind of lobby. The place was completely trashed, with only one girl huddled in the corner beside a sofa. She looked about my age, and whimpered when she saw my gun.

"Are you going t-to kill me?" she asked timidly. I looked her over, from her brunette hair, hazel eyes and well tanned skin to her ragged jeans, wrinkled shirt and cheap sneakers. It was hard to say if she was a ghoul or not, but I could tell she wasn't kindred.

"Why would I kill a kindred?" I asked, wondering if the term had ever been told to her before.

"Oh," she said brightening. "You're one of the sisters? I've not been su-summoned yet. S-Still t-trying to shed my f-f-fears," she said, shaking.

"Have you heard what goes on in the temple," I prodded, figuring she wasn't even bound or anything.

"I-I had a friend once. She snuck up there, a f-few days ago. Said s-she saw things...bad things, y-yeah."

I shook my head, as the girl hugged her knees tighter to her chest as she huddled by a pillar. "She said, ummm, b-blood everywhere. There were a f-few of the summoned, t-tried to talk to them, but they j-just...stared at her with these b-blank looks, ya-know. One of t-them started to r-reach for her, and she ran away! K-Kyle, the guy who watches the door ran a-after her. I-I was tempted to go too, but he brought her back."

"Where is she now?" I asked and then noticed a tear run silently down her face.

"I-I heard her scream. S-She…" she tried to say before she lowered her head and let out a sob. I pushed the couch aside and knelt beside her, putting my hand on her back. "B-bishop said, w-we have to s-shed our, umm, our earthly f-f-fears on our journey to the N-Ninth Circle, but I'm scared to go upstairs and l-look for her. I, uh, I just w-wanna go home, y'know? I just wanna go home," she said, then put her head between her knees and cried.

I put an arm around her, hugging her close to me while I had a silent war with myself. She had maybe seen too much of kindred happenings to be allowed to live, but I don't know if I could kill her without sacrificing a part of my soul. And if I let her leave, it might be my own life that was lost. Needing an answer, I pulled my phone out, and dialed the only contact I had.

"This is Walsh," his voice said, coming through my phone.

"Walsh, this is Eliza. Got a problem. Young kine that's maybe seen too much, but its hard to say because she's too frightened to talk," I said, trying to keep any clues to the nature of my call private. I didn't want to make her any more scared than she already was.

"Has she mentioned anything remotely masquerade breaking?"

"No, she said there was lots of blood, and her friend got scared by something upstairs and is likely dead because of it," I told him, laying the truth out for him to judge the situation.

"Then she has nothing concrete and the masquerade is safe. You may let her live, and thank you for calling me," he said, sounding sincere in his concern for the girl and that I interrupted his night with such a small matter. But that was what he was paid for, I guess.

I let the girl cry for a moment, then helped her to her feet. "You go on home. There's not going to be a brotherhood after tonight anyway," I told her and she nodded, slowly walking for the door. When she opened the door, she screamed at the side of blood on the teller window where I had blown the ghoul's brains out then bolted out of sight. I let her go, before readying my gun and taking the stairs up.

I could hear groaning, and thinking I might be able to save another victim charged that last few steps to find several people standing around. One noticed me, a frail looking man, and started to amble forward. I watched him, and his shuffling step, and tried to figure him out. He had the skin pallor of a dead man, but his eyes were lacking of any intelligence.

"Are you kindred," I asked him, as he got close. The man didn't respond as he got within arms reach, then he lunged at me and knocked my arms to the side grabbing for my shoulders. I immediately brought a knee up, scoring one between his legs. The guy didn't even flinch as he grabbed my shoulders and bit my neck, ripping at my flesh. I jammed the gun against his head, and put one through an ear which dropped the guy lack a bag of potatoes.

I held my neck with my free hand, feeling blood seep around my fingers. I saw the other two approach, and I took careful aim with my pistol. I shot the first in the left eye, felling him, and the other I managed to hit it just under the scalp. It fell to the floor, twitched a few times, then stopped. I wiped my hand off on a nearby ruin of a couch, then felt my wounded neck again.

With the bleeding somewhat curtailed, I started to turn and go up the stairs. I found several more of the walking dead, all standing around. They just stood there, unmoving, until one noticed me, then she started forward. I took careful aim, using the three for target practice. They were surprisingly easy to kill, one shot dropping each before they could move far. I was about to start up the stairs again when I noticed a trail of blood.

I followed it down a hall, dropping each corpse as I found it. The trail went into a room, but as I tried the door, I found it locked. I reloaded my pistol, then kicked in the door. One of the corpses was ripping pieces of flesh off a dead girl in the corner. I calmly put a bullet in him, dropping him before he noticed me. I went over and pulled him off the girl, but she was long dead judging by the smell that was just starting to become noticeable.

I left her there, going back to the stairwell and went up another floor. There weren't any corpses walking here so I went up again, finding that the stairwell ended here. There wasn't any corpses here either, but the lobby-type area was bricked off, with only one door accessible. I reloaded my pistol and all my clips before stashing my gun back in its holster. I then slid my shotgun out from its simple sling and unfolded the stock. I racked in a fresh shell, then replaced the one in the tube. I was as ready as I ever was going to, and decided to end this. Opening the door, I saw several of the corpses standing around, but the man who sat on a raised platform in a highback chair was the one who caught my eye.

He looked at me, smiling before standing up and holding his arms wide, "Greetings, sister. Welcome to the Temple. I see you've been enlightened. Are you searching for something, truth maybe? Well you've come to the right place, sister. We've got more truth here than we can handle," he said, sounding like a TV preacher. It was so tempting to raise my gun and fire into his ugly mug, but I needed to find Celeste. Or at least more about her.

"Celeste enlightened me," I lied, lowering the shotgun but keeping my hand on it so I could use it if I needed to. "She said we were bringing the kindred down with our disease."

"Disease, sister? You've got to open your mind! One man's disease is another man's sanctity! Here among the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle, we have shed these earthly labels! Come! Partake of our divine communion!"

I approached him, surprised the corpses didn't start approaching me as I got close. "Who are you, anyway? All she called you was Bishop."

"They call me Bishop Vick, Shepherd of the Damned, your midnight guide through our last days here on earth," he said, going over to a corpse still draped on a ruined couch. "Do you feel it sister? The curtain being drawn back at last, drawn back by my hand, by the Brotherhood of the Ninth Circle!"

"You mean when our ancestor's rise to eat us?" I asked, knowing Lasombra was already rising through me. I could still feel him shifting inside of me, but clamped down on it.

"Gehenna? Judgment Day? The Apocalypse? Oh again, sister, you are too indoctrinated into the antiquated beliefs of this material world," he said, inspecting the corpse on the couch. "There is no rhyme or reason, no all powerful and terrible gods who watch over and protect their chosen children. We are all damned to hell," he said, raising his eyes to look at me.

"You talk of disease, what about the disease that you and I both carry, our flesh remade into nothing more than an abomination, feeding on our brothers and sisters like so many cattle? What god watched over me when that demon tore into my neck and made me this monster you see before you?" he said, his eyes burning with an intense hatred over his fate. "No, sister. There is no god who would tolerate such a thing. So I have become God, and the diseases I carry to the masses will bring about an end of my own making, until we have all journeyed into the Ninth Circle."

"So, who gave you the disease? Celeste?"

"It's been her pet project since she was ripped from her coven," Vick said, moving around the couch. "She was just as infuriated with her gods and goddesses for not protecting her when she needed it most. So she devised this disease, molded it, created it, and gave it it's terrible power. Those that now die of our new disease ridden blood will rise like zombies. Feeding on all they came across, spreading their taint and amassing a great following! It will be glorious, sister."

"I understand how you feel about being ripped from your life," I told him, meaning the words. "But this is no way to deal with it. You are killing innocents! Hannah did nothing to deserve dying alone in her bed! She was just a poor girl trying to survive this harsh world, and I'm going to avenge her death by killing you and every one of these walking corpses you've made, and then I will find Celeste and avenge Hannah's death on her too."

"The time for words is gone, sister," he said, "You and I will take those last steps together, and see what truth lies behind the curtain!" With that he became a blur as he ran to a crumbling wall. I readied my shotgun, firing just as he was bringing a shotgun of his own out from behind the wall. My blast knocked him over a turned over table, but before I could even ratchet a fresh round into my shotgun, he came over the table with his and blasted at me.

I felt the blow strike me, and I tumbled across the floor from the force of the impact, but it didn't hurt. As I got to my knees, I could see I was now wearing some kind of inky black armor which moved like a second skin. I reading my shotgun, just as I was hit again, the blast knocking me further away. I got up, hiding behind the wall just as another blast blew through the wall beside my shoulder. I couldn't fight this guy head on, so I needed to outsmart him. I looked past the edge of the wall, then ran fast to another of the crumbling walls just as Vick blasted at me again. I wasn't hit so I hid there, waiting. I saw Vick change vantage points, just as he blasted at me again, the blast striking the wall by my head and pelting my armor with splinters. I blasted back, hitting him in the shoulder and making him drop his shotgun. I charged across the room, firing as I went. My next shot hit him in the chest, rolling him against a wall. My next two shots ripped his guts open, then I put one into his leg.

I was about to start putting rounds through his head when I felt a club like blow from behind which made me stumble forward. I rolled over, losing the shotgun along the way to see one of the corpses marching towards me. I reached behind my back for the pistol, barely getting it lined up to squeeze off two shots before he could pin me to the floor. He fell over backwards, and I fired hard and fast at the others who were close by, dropping four more.

I barely saw Vick as he went running by, shotgun in hand. I emptied my pistol into his general direction, and he ended up rolling behind the wall. I scrambled for my shotgun, ducking behind a wall just as Vick started to blast his shotgun towards me. I reloaded both my pistol and my shotgun, kneeling in the corner while Vick blew holes near the corner.

Once I was reloaded, I crept to the corner to see Vick fire once more into the corner where I had just been. I could see his shadow as he set the gun stock first to the floor as he began reloading it. I smiled, then jumped into the shadow and come out right on top of him. He looked up, slack jawed at seeing me as I put a round into his face. I began to ratchet the gun as and fire into him as fast as I could, hitting him in the face and chest. He crumbled into ash just as my last round fired into him as he disintegrated.

I looked around, and began plugging the last remaining corpses with my pistol. When I had the last one dropped, I took a round for my shotgun and used my lockpicks to open the end up, pulling out the bullets. When I did, I put the round in the shotgun and ratcheted it into place, then loaded it up full. I fired it into the sofa where the corpse lay, the half-ignited gunpowder burning the fabric. The fire caught, and in moments the fire was burning hot enough to push me back to the door. Once the fire spread to the whole couch, the flames went all the way to the ceiling, already burning a hole in the old wood there and catching the insulation on fire.

I went ahead and left the room, heading down to the ground floor. I checked the ghoul, finding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in a pocket. I took the lighter and the body, dragging both to the old sofa the scared girl had hidden behind when I first got here. I dumped the corpse on the sofa, then lit the sofa with the lighter. Once it had caught, I left the building, stuffing the lighter in a pocket along with the cigarettes. I used to love a good smoke, never developing the habit, myself. If nothing else, it helped complete my biker girl image.

I got back on my back just as flames poured through the roof. I could barely make out the smoke, but it was spreading fast. At least any surviving walkers in the building would die before they could be found, and the heat from the fire would destroy their diseased corpses and hide the evidence. That just left Celeste, so I dialed Walsh again.

"This is Walsh," I heard once the call went through.

"Scouge Walsh, this is Eliza Flores. I just stopped the main source of the epidemic. I'm currently at Pico and San Julian and I set fire to the building they were holed up in. The disease has changed. The dead turn into zombies now."

"But you stopped all the plaguebearers?"

"One remains. Her name is Celeste, and she was into magic pretty heavily."

"Magic? I see," he said, pausing for a moment. "Her name is Celeste Evans, and she is a Tremere."

"So I'd find her at the Tremere Chantry?"

"Yes, you would. Would you like to bring her in? I've even posted an award for making the epidemic stop."

"If I can, I will. I assume she will be given her Trial tomorrow right after the Brujah?"

"She will, if she can be caught. Be careful of the mages. They might not seem powerful at first, but they are deceptively powerful."

"Noted. I'm on my way to the Chantry now."

"Godspeed, young one," he said and the line disconnected. I started my bike, heading for the chantry as fast as I could. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but I was going to be damned sure I got all of them.

Out in front of the chantry, I stopped the bike and shut it down. I walked in the front door to find a three people coming down the stairs and I could feel the hairs on my neck stand on end. Two were female, and one was male, none of them were familiar to me, so I decided to ask a simple question.

"Can you tell me where I might find Celeste Evans?" I asked the group. They all stopped and surveyed me, when the guy spoke up.

"She's Celeste. If you have need of us, we request that you speak to Regent Strauss. He is the master of this chantry," he told me, his voice only mildly annoyed at my interruption. "Nyx, come," he said, looking up at the banister to several cats and what looked like looked like living winged fairies hiding behind it. It was downright eerie.

"Celeste Evans, you're under arrest for masquerade violation," I said, just as the group turned to walk deeper into the chantry's ground level. They all stopped, with blood pooling in the guy's hands, as he spun to face me.

"That's a serious accusation, Lasombra," he snarled and a black cat hissed from where she was ready to jump down from the banister.

"I have authorization from Scourge Walsh to bring her to the tower. Her Trial is tomorrow, right after the Brujah's," I said, hoping that wasn't going to be a problem.

"What am I being accused of," Celeste said, her own hand coating itself in blood as she readied herself to fight.

"Being one of the plaguebearers, and more importantly, being the one who masterminded the disease's creation and mutation, probably through your clan's blood magic," I said, watching her eyes. They widened in shock when I told her about the mutation part, so I decided to see if I could pin it better. "Bishop Vick was glad to lay it out for me. He said you were mad that your goddess didn't protect you from your sire, so you wanted to punish all of us."

I watched her face as she tried to hide her anger, but she was ready to snap. The other two started to glance between us, then the woman spoke. "Keenan, go get Strauss. Bring him here, okay?" A large tabby meowed above us, then jumped down and took the left branch of the hallway, it's tail high in the air. The others continued to watch the drama unfold, and I connected myself to the shadows.

I knew if they all attacked, this could go south fast, and likely I'd be a greasy smear on the wall. My best chance was that they didn't press the issue, but common sense told me Celeste, at least, would try.

The other female dropped back a few steps, getting behind Celeste. The move didn't go unnoticed, and I knew this was about to go south like an undercover drug bust. Celeste finally snarled, and balled the blood around her hand and threw it at the Tremere guy standing almost next to me. I expected it to go splat like a paintball, but the blood ball fused into him and he began convulsing in pain.

"Run," he groaned, and I sprinted up the stairs as he blew apart, literally, as if he'd been wearing a suicide vest. I was knocked off my feet by the blast, and could hear sounds of fighting below me. Celeste and the other woman were grappling and rolling around on the floor. I rushed down the stairs, grabbing a stray piece of wood off the bannister and rushed over to the two women. The other woman must have noticed me as she suddenly threw Celeste back against the wall. I wasted no time in burying the piece of wood in her chest, and her eyes rolled up like a light.

Strauss strolled through the door as she slid to the floor, the big bellied tabby right behind him. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

"Celeste killed Kenny," she said, gesturing to the blood stained entryway. "She also apparently used her advanced thaumaturgy skills to create the disease we've been trying to obliterate. Oh, I'm Eloise, by the way. I'm the magister of the Chantry."

Strauss gazed around, eyes going to the cats and living fairies then said, "Grab her familiar. It's the gargoyle in blue cloth." he said, and one of the living fairies suddenly bolted for the door, using its wings to glide the length of the staircase. Several more of the 'fairies' took after it, and several streaks of cat could be seen. I was certain that the familiar-in-question was about to be mauled to death, but as I got closer, saw that they'd actually just pinned it down, with a large black cat being the last one to back away, a low warning yowl issuing from it.

Eloise brought a carrier out of a closet, and then reached down and grabbed the familiar and put it in, before locking the door so it couldn't escape. "Your master has been a very bad person," she said, the fairy pouting as she wrapped her arms around itself and settled itself in a corner.

"What is that?" I asked, entranced by the living doll.

"Familiars," Strauss said, observing the pouting creature. "They are, servants, of a sort. Guardians of our havens. They are constructed using our magic, and its usually one of the first things an acolyte learns upon entering a chantry."

"Wow," I said, looking at the creature.

"They are not so easy to look at when first created, but it has become something of a fad amongst the apprentices and acolytes to transform their creations into more pleasing shapes," Eloise said, holding the creature up for inspection. "I say its vanity, but the young are more foolish and prideful and don't accept the fact that a beautiful object doesn't always equate to more power or increased usefulness. There's even talk of hosting a beauty pageant next month."

"Let the young have their fun," Strauss said. "It gives them ideas, and allows them to innovate."

"Some innovations shouldn't be found," I said, and Strauss nodded.

"Too true, but such innovations often lead to useful innovations," Eloise added.

"I'll give you a hundred if you can name one," I smarted off, wondering what hideous weapon could lead to improvements in something else.

"How about the atomic bomb? It started off as nothing more than the world's foremost destructive device. Today, that same basic technology has led to nuclear technology that powers entire cities."

I fished in my bag for a hundred, feeling a bit dumb. I handed the bill to Eloise, who shoved the bill down her cleavage. "Having lived it, I can say it was a very scary day indeed, when you learn the kine kill an entire city while you sleep."

"So what happens to the familiar now?"

"They kill me," she said, looking more like a scared eight year old than any creature I ever saw before.

"Only if your mage dies," Eloise said. "If she lives, you'll be returned to her. Until then, we'll keep you secure so you can't escape."

"Well, you've done well, neonate," Strauss said, looking back to me. "You've solved the epidemic, including it's mastermind. That just leaves your reward."

"My reflection, you can restore it?"

"Unfortunately, that's not possible," Eloise said. "Our magic is powerful, but to overcome a clan curse? That's like making a Nosferatu a supermodel. We do have a workaround. It's not a real reflection, but a living fairth, or magical painting. It will capture and reflect your essence, and as it will be tied to you by blood, will perfectly reflect your image."

"How hard is it to do?"

"Not that hard, as the painting is ready. All we need to do is sketch some symbols in Tremere blood, then apply your blood," Eloise said, stashing the familiar in the closet. She then led me into the maze, and I wondered how they found their way around. Soon we arrived at a door, which Eloise opened with a key. Inside was a large frame which had to be ten foot by ten foot. It was actually so big it had to be leaned at a slight angle to fit in the room.

Eloise picked up a knife, slicing her left hand before placing the dagger back on the table. She started by sketching a circle, then started sketching symbols above it and circling around to back to where she started. I was sure they had meaning, but it was beyond me. After finishing, she stepped and cleaned her hand and the blade with a rag. Then she offered the knife to me.

"Just slice your dominant hand, let the blood coat your palm, then place it in the center circle. The symbols are written in my blood so it'll get its power from me. There's little maintenance involved. It'll never need to be dusted, and if it gets blurry, just smear some of your blood on the painting. It'll be absorbed into the painting and rejuvenate itself, just like a ghoul."

I nodded, then taking the knife in my left hand, sliced my right. Blood pooled over my hand and I partially squeezed my hand so blood would coat the edges, then placed it in the center of the circle. The effect was instantaneous. The colors coalesced into an image, which then formed into a person by a beach on a moonlit night. I looked at the image, and it was like looking at an imperfect reflection. Nothing itself was wrong, but as she didn't reflect my movement it was more like a perfect double of myself.

"Wow," I said, studying her. I was thinner than I used to be, and my hair had lost its shine. My eyes were just gone now, leaving black orbs in their place, and my skin tone had gone from luscious tan to light peach. More importantly, it was me. I could finally see myself.

"Are you satisfied with your payment?" Strauss asked me. I nodded my approval, then watched as my painting started to move around, finally settling herself into a chaise lounge and assuming a provocative pose.

"That's amazing," I finally whispered.

"We'll have it delivered to your haven tomorrow night, after the affairs of the trial are concluded," Strauss said.

"Good," I said, finally stepping back from looking at my own image. I couldn't help but stare at it, then forced myself to look away. "There is one last thing I need to speak to you about. First off, this is rather sensitive, and do you trust all people in this room?"

"I do, young one. It is a wise question to ask when one is unsure of loyalties," he said, looking past me to Eloise. Apparently she was a little angry at being called unfaithful. I pulled the tapes from my bag, and held them up.

"When I was at Doctor Grout's earlier, he had left these tapes out in various recorders in his home. I played them, wondering if it might help me find him. They reveal he was afraid of someone rather powerful who was about to do something terrible in the city. Someone who wanted him killed, who might be on the primogen council."

Strauss glanced to Eloise, then back to me. His face was hard to read, but he didn't seem happy. "I am glad you brought this to me. Such rumors might fuel the fires in the city and cause more unrest than is already being displayed."

"Yes, and the Anarchs would be quick to point out the corruption in the Camarilla," Eloise said.

"You are proving quite powerful on both your own, and in social skills, Miss Flores," Strauss told me. Eloise came up and took the tapes I was offering, momentarily leaving to take them somewhere. When she returned, she addressed Strauss.

"I put them in your private study and locked the door, sir," she said.

"Good. If you will pardon us, I will have one of the acolytes bring me my old tape player. Miss Watson, if you will join me once you have shown Miss Flores the door."

"Yes, sir," Eloise said, bowing her head respectfully to her elder.

I nodded myself, "Thanks for your help. I still have things to do, so I'll leave you to it, Regent Strauss."

Strauss nodded, and Eloise led me back to the entryway. Several kindred worked at scrubbing the blood from the walls and floor, while overhead cats and familiars watched from the banister. A sudden thought hit me. "Is it hard to make a familiar?"

"Not in the least. But it is thaumaturgy, so you wouldn't be able to invoke it anyway," Eloise told me. Something in me said I could, and I kept my mouth shut. I was about to walk past the kindred scrubbing the floors when I noticed that Celeste wasn't lying on the floor.

"Where is Celeste?"

Eloise looked around, then walked over to the kindred by the door. "Did you move Celeste's body?"

"No, Magister. We haven't seen Celeste lying down here."

I looked around, then opened the closet where her familiar's cage was kept. One was missing.

"Her familiar must have freed herself, then pulled the stake from her mage's heart," Eloise said. "We're going to have to get better cages if they can free themselves so easily."

"Yeah, well, I'll inform Walsh that we had her, and she escaped. I suppose he'll have the Camarilla deputies looking for her."

"Yes, though it means more scrutiny and hatred for us," Eloise said. "It's not like Tremere stole our immortality from them."

"He stole it?"

"A story for another time, kindred," she said, heading back into the maze of the chantry.

I walked past the scrubbing kindred, and out the door, getting on my bike and heading for the Tower. Chunky butt wasn't at his post, so I went back and called the elevator personally, taking it up to the top, then headed for Walsh's office.

"Come in, my dear," he said as I entered his doorway. "Good work on stopping the epidemic. I assume you got Celeste somewhere?"

"I did, but she has a magical assistant that pulled the stake from her heart. She escaped when we thought she was secure."

"I'll take this to the prince, then," he said getting up from his desk. "The posted amount for stopping the breach of the masquerade will be deposited into your account. It's a million dollars, by the way. If you see Celeste again, you may stake or kill her with full immunity, as she's now under the auspices of a blood hunt."

"Good, because I intend to find her, though I figure she'll probably leave the city."

"Doubtful. If she does, she will have to enter a Sabbat controlled city, or one where we have no control. Once she presents herself to the local prince, her blood hunt will be revealed and she will again be hunted and killed," Walsh told me.

"Well, the longer I stand here, the further she goes," I said, stepping out into the hallway as Walsh closed the door behind him as he joined me.

"Indeed," he said walking down the hall with me. "If your nights become boring, or if your wits fail to find you suitable funds, you can always join my deputies."

"Maybe one day, far in the future," I said, not wanting to burn that bridge just yet. We bid each good night at the elevators, and I went down to the lobby and left. I still had one thing left and with only a few hours left in the night, needed to get it over with. I hopped on my bike, and headed for the Last Round. I parked next to the front door, and went in. Damsel stood by the stairs, waiting, so I walked over.

"Cammie," she said as I got close enough to hear her over the bar's loud music. "Didn't think I'd see you until tomorrow. Can't stay away can ya?"

"Well, you do have your own charm," I said, leaning up against the other side of the door. "I got all the plaguebearers, except one. Her name is Celeste Evans, one of the Tremere," I said and Damsel snarled. "We had her staked but she had her familiar pull the stake out. She's currently running loose, and the Camarilla is putting a blood hunt out for her."

"Great," she said, mood lightening a bit. "Cammies finally get off their ass and did something. Only after we Anarchs started working on the problem."

I shook my head, not wanting to add that no one had told Walsh about the problem and therefore couldn't fix what he didn't know to be broke. I needed to keep my allies as allies and not make enemies. "Well," I said, not knowing what do next. "Nines said this place is Elysium. Mind explaining that?"

Damsel smirked at that. "Any kindred meeting place is considered Elysium. Neutral territory. Basic rules are, no use of your special abilities, and no attacking other kindred. Anyone is free to say what they want without fearing an attack. People that break that rule can be brought before the prince at a trial, where the prince will dole out punishment. Like what happened with Jack and Skelter. You have the right," she said, teeth grinding at the thought, "to take them before the prince and ask them to be punished. Lacroix could punish them by making you owe boons to exiling them from the city to execution. Knowing Lacroix, it'd probably be execution. He's turning into a regular Mary, Queen of Scots."

"Not worth it though," I said, putting the redhead at ease. "Skelter was at least man enough to apologize after I knocked him down the stairs and I mule-kicked Jack across the room. Even Nines was impressed by how I got past Jack."

"Yeah, he said you jumped right through the shadows? I didn't know you could do that," she said, smiling at her own thoughts.

"I can, apparently. Useful if you're on the wrong end of the gun."

"Best I can do is sixty. I hear Nines has been clocked around two hundred, and I thought that was fast."

The conversation lulled, and I looked at the clock. "Well, I need to get home and tend to the ghouls," I said, turning for the door. Damsel put a hand on my shoulder, and I stopped.

"I mean it though. Thanks for helping out, and if you ever need help," she said, her voice gentle for once.

"I'll come see you. And if you want to ride with me after the trial tomorrow, I'd leave the beret at home," I said, taking her hand in mine and Damsel smiled.

"Sure. I'll see you there," she said, and I kissed her hand, not knowing what else to do with it. I was suddenly hit with an urge to get close and feed, but I suppressed it as best I could. I got close to Damsel, pressing against her as leaning my head to the side. I could feel the demand inside of me to feed, and my fangs extended. Damsel kissed my cheek, wrapping her arms around me and pulled me closer, my fangs almost brushing against her skin, I was so close. I could feel the power of her blood in her veins beneath my fangs.

I finally recovered my senses enough to kiss her on the neck, but it was agonizing to feel her skin on my lips and not feed. Almost in a stupor, I pulled away and walked out of the bar, leaving Damsel shocked at the foot of the stairs. I quickly got on my bike and brought the engine to life with a roar. I needed to escape, to settle my mind. I also needed to feed, so before heading off, I pulled out a blood bag I had gotten from Grout's and bit into it, draining both before slaking my thirst. Only then did I head down the interstate for home.

I kept my Harley at almost top speed the entire trip, wanting to get home to look over the houses Walsh had to offer. When I parked it in the alley by the pawnshop, I saw a couple a girl waiting across the street. She was in obvious clothing, most of it being sheer with only her naughty bits actually being covered. I took the key out, and headed inside, finding Brian sitting by the door as he watched two white guys box. Constance and Heather were asleep on the bed, giving evidence that the two could somewhat get along. Or maybe they were just tired from cleaning the apartment. It did look better in here.

"Mistress, you're home," he said, getting up to take my bag.

"It was an interesting night," I said as I handed my bag off, glad I no longer had the tapes to weigh it down. I took the last blood bag I had, storing it in the fridge. The fridge itself was no longer empty, housing various sandwich items and a case of pop and several beers. "Everyone getting along?"

"So far," he said as he set my bag by the desk. I pulled my pistol out, handing it to him to stash in the desk drawer. I then unclipped my shotgun and handed it to him. "Sweet Jesus, what do you do? Go looking for trouble?"

"I wonder about that sometimes," I said, as I bent over and pulled out the gun I had taken from the ghoul. "Care for an upgrade?"

"A .357? Sure you don't want to keep it?" he said, looking the gun over.

"Not sure how to handle it. I can barely use the one I have now," I told him, "And besides. You need a good weapon for defending me during the day. I got a woman gunning for me now. Her name is Celeste Evans, and if I had a picture of her, I'd give it to you. Best advice, if you do encounter her, shoot first, shoot second, and shoot some more. She can, and will, blow you up just by throwing a red ball of blood at you."

"Sounds serious," he said, stashing the pistol on his back.

"Deathly serious. We're hunting her down now. She's wanted by the city for her actions, so hopefully she doesn't last long."

I then reached down and pulled out the binder that Walsh's ghoul had given me, and set it on the desk. "Today, while we sleep, and she can't get to me, I want you, Heather and Constance to go look at new homes. I'm going to check a few out in here, and send you where I think most appropriate. If you don't find anything really wrong with it, tomorrow I'll settle things out with Walsh and maybe day after tomorrow we can move in."

"Good, because they are seriously thinking of making me take a walk while they shower at night."

"Extra bathrooms," I muttered, sitting down to go through the listings. Many of them were simple three and four bedroom homes, though the first dozen are so were even smaller two room apartments. Most seemed to be set up for a kindred and one ghoul, which most newer kindred probably only had, as they meticulously worked to build an empire. I knew I was skipping steps with how I was doing it, but many of the older kindred knew it was necessary to build fast to have something later. The question I asked myself was, can I keep it growing or will I get ripped apart.

I flipped a page, finding I was looking at an even higher price range. The second one caught my eye, as it was a duplex near Ventura with beach front access. I could feel something in me desiring it, and I thought it over. I flipped through several more, finding more properties similar in size, but nothing seemed to settle something in me as seeing pictures of the ocean.

'Definitely going to need to be on the ocean,' I thought, as I saw several properties that were actually duplexes, but that was risking a masquerade violation if anything supernatural happened. No I needed single occupant style home. I flipped a page and my heart skipped a beat. It was a Malibu estate, beach front access, with a georgous three story home not a hundred foot from the water. I looked at the listed price tag and almost whined. Thirty million?

Still, I looked over the ten thousand plus square footage displayed. It had six bedrooms, six full and two half bathrooms, attached three car garage, it's own theater room, game room, artwork room, study, exercise and work rooms. Holy Mary. This place had everything, even a large outdoor hot tub on the patio right at the edge of the sand. This was a palace built for billionaires and movie stars. Way out of my price range.

Still, I couldn't help but think that I had a good sixth of it already, and if I could win that bet with Walsh, another twenty million more. God, I was salivating at the prospect of owning it. It was perfect as every picture showing the ocean seemed to calm my beast, leading me to think that my clan must have a weakness for the sea. Why else would seeing the ocean sooth the beast in me?

"Oh, hey, your back!" Heather said as she rose out of bed. Constance was still rubbing her eyes, and I looked out the window to see the sky brightening.

"Heather, Brian, what do you think? I said, showing them the page with the thirty million dollar estate.

"You can afford that?" Heather gasped.

"If she can, she's no small timer," Brian said, shaking his head. "Makes me feel like I wasted my life."

"There's a bet," I said, flipping past that page to see it started to list rentals for business locations, "That if I can win will provide two-thirds of the funds needed to purchase it outright. I have a sixth of it now."

"And we live here?" Heather said, incredulous. "We are three people living in squalor! And you have millions?"

"To be fair, I just acquired it. Now, I'm going to send you and Brian out to check on these properties. Find out how close the neighbors are and if there are any problems with the house itself. They are all on the beach, so don't worry about not getting yourself a tan. Your personal habits are your own, but Heather, I need you awake when I am. At least when I wake in the evening. Also, I want to get you setup to start making me clothes."

"Yeah, can you model something for me? Brian said you wanted a coat, but there's nothing that fits better than a tailored one," she said, pulling what looked like a long cloth vest off the wall. I slipped in on over what I had, finding it went just past mid thigh. I then realized it was a blank for making things like jackets. "Let me just get this to sit right," she said, and started putting pins in it to make the material fold into a jacket shape.

"Brian, could you get the katana from under the bed?" I asked him, deciding that maybe having Heather rig me a way of carrying the short blade might work better than trying to carry the shotgun in public. Swords were supposed to better against vampires, and with my ability to teleport, I could easily get the upper hand in a fight by appearing behind a kindred and decapitating him before he knew where I was. Brian came back with the sword and I showed it to Heather. "Is there anyway to hide this on my back?"

"I don't know," she said, placing it against my back. "You might have to take your coat off to put it away again, and you're going to have to take your coat off to sit. So taxi driver's are going to notice..."

"Oh, I have a motorcycle now," I told them. "It's down in the alley. Took it from a vampire hunter I came across."

"Sweet," Brian said, as Heather took a marker and sketched the outline of the sword on my back before setting it aside.

"I'll work on it today, but if we're going to be out much," Heather said, concern in her voice as she thought about everything she had to do.

"The coat isn't important right now. I have another that can hide a shotgun, so it will work for a bit. I just wanted something to hide my arsenal while I'm out and about," I said, feeling the sun beginning to rise. It was time to shut down for the day, and Constance came out of the bathroom, as she got ready for her day.

"Okay, I think I have everything," Heather said, slipping the vest off of me. "To hide a sword on your back, and keep it where you can draw it easily, a duster will probably work best. It's like a trench-coat, but it has panels below the waist instead of being solid."

"I leave it to the professional," I said, heading into the bathroom to undress, finding my bed was already ready. I was really going to be glad to have a proper bed and wouldn't be sleeping in a mold covered shower stall. Once I was free of my clothes, I settled into my pallet, pulling the sheet over me to cover my body. The sun cracked over the horizon, and I gave in to the pull of sleep.


	24. Chapter 24 - Good News, Bad News

Chapter 24 – Good News, Bad News

October 1, 2004 = Friday

I awoke the next night to a candlelit bathroom, and immediately went through my routine. I could hear everyone talking in the next room, chattering away about their day. They were all rather excited, which was understandable given the fact that they'd been checking out multimillion dollar beach homes all day. They probably felt rich.

I came out to find more candles lighting the place with Sharron waiting for me with my usual coterie. She sat against the desk drawers, secured with duck tape and gagged in a leather mini so short I didn't see how it covered anything and her crop top was sheer and let just a hint of the skin underneath through, not that the it covered much anyway. There was a deep V-neck that plunged deep into her cleavage to the bottom hem of her top. She saw me and became rather animated.

"What's with her?" I asked them, and everyone got to their feet as Sharron started to thrash on the floor.

"She needs her fix," Brian said, crossing his arms. "I've seen this before, that's why I tied her up. She was getting a bit too rowdy waiting on you to wake up."

"I know how she feels," Heather said, rubbing an arm. "I can't feel it anymore. There's like a hollow spot inside me where I could feel you before, but now..."

"Come here, Heather. You want this?" I asked, biting into my wrist to draw blood. Heather knelt in front of me, taking my wrist in her hands before sucking on my blood. The room was silent as she drank, whether it was out of respect for the moment or fear of what was to come was hard to say. Even Constance looked uncomfortable, but her eyes remained locked on my wrist as she watched Heather drink.

After several mouth-fulls, I pulled my wrist away and Heather leaned back, here eyes fluttering as she reveled in the high of drinking my blood. I looked at Brian, moving aside a bit so he'd have a place to kneel, and held my still bleeding wrist out for him to take. He got the idea, coming to kneel in front of me and sucking on my wrist like a newborn babe. Sharron began to thrash as she watched Brian drink from my wrist, but the tape held as I gave Brian his dose.

After I felt Brian had enough, I pulled my wrist away and he groaned in pleasure. I turned to face Sharron, who was still thrashing and screaming, though thankfully it was muted by the tape across her mouth. I looked at her, and if looks could kill, I'd fill an urn.

I went into the bathroom and dressed in the outfit Heather had laid out on the desk, which gave Heather and Brian a chance to recover as both of them looked like they'd just been at an all night marathon. The clothing Heather had for me wasn't the low cut waist leather Sharron preferred, but rode so high on my waist they almost covered my belly button. I liked it because it kept me covered while sitting. The boots she had for me were a polished black with a flat heel, to which I was grateful for, and were a snug fit.

The top she had laid out was a slate gray long sleeve shirt that as I checked the tag found was made of spandex. I slipped it on over the supplied black sports bra and found it very form fitting. In fact, the whole outfit hugged every curve I had, though only my hands, neck and face showed skin. I was liking it, but I wondered how I was supposed to hide my pistol. It would stand out on this outfit.

Leaving the bathroom, I found Sharron had calmed down from where she sat by the desk. Brian and Heather were by her, and I couldn't help but see a difference in them. Brian seemed darker, scarier even though he was just leaned against the desk. Heather, by contrast, seemed to glow with Constance beside her to illustrate the change.

It made me wonder what the difference was. The only thing that changed beside being their second feeding was Lasombra had chosen me to return to the land of the living. Could he have done something to make my ghouls stand out more? If he did, what was he doing to me?

I shook my head and looked down at Sharron. "Brian, did she have the rest of the thousand dollars for her fix?"

"No, she's a hundred short," he said, reaching into a pocket and producing a wad of bills and some receipts. I nodded to him, then dropped my eyes back to Sharron, and felt my ire rise. She was given the power of presence, her only job to seduce money from men, and she had failed.

I knelt down, straddling Sharron's stomach and let my disappointment and hatred at her flow out. Brian quickly edged away and I could hear Constance whimper somewhere behind me. Sharron's eyes grew wide as she realized I was probably ready to kill her, but I forced myself to think. I wouldn't kill her, that just made me a monster, and I was going to honor that vow no matter what.

"Sharron," I said, my voice hard and lacking in warmth. "If I take the tape off, you're not going to start screaming and wake the neighbors, right?" She nodded slowly, and I pulled the tape off her mouth. "Now, you care to explain why you failed? You were supposed to either bring me a thousand dollars in clothes, and make up the difference with cash. So, where's my cash?"

Sharron whimpered, tears were starting to leak from here eyes. "I tried. At first, I could take any guy I wanted. But Angel, like the next night, she took every well paying guy in the club away from me. I tried, but..." She said, her voice cracking slightly as she was so close to outright crying. I was tempted to sink my teeth in and drain her for being a failure, even as Lasombra seemed to scream at me within my brain that she was a waste of blood and didn't deserve any.

I fought him down, still glad I could do so and struggled to think through the rising din in my mind. It was like having a million thoughts all at once, and I fought it back, to think without becoming the monster, but it was difficult. As quickly as it rose, the din faded and I could think my way forward. I wasn't going to kill her, it was a waste of time and effort, though her ghouling did bring me Angel and she was the better choice by far. At least she had a better chance in the movies, Sharron would be better served in the darker side of Hollywood in the adult film industry.

I smiled. A roommate in college my freshman year had taken up the dark profession as a way of making lots of money for little work. She had always told me that the pay was several thousand dollars for a shoot, with bigger named stars making ten times that. No shortage of film shoots were available as more and more people clamored for video stimulation and release.

"Please, it hurts," she said, fidgeting underneath me even as I sat on her stomach. I leaned in close, making very sure she understood I was serious.

"I'll give you your fix," I breathed, my voice still hard, as I decided her course forward, "But you are going to earn your hundred dollars before you leave the block."

"Anything, please," she begged. I raised my wrist, biting it again to open a wound for her to suck on. I slid off her stomach to position myself on a knee beside her, and offered her my bleeding wrist. She leaned forward, sucking on my blood, and I let her have several mouth-fulls before I pulled my wrist away. She was panting, her eyes rolled back in ecstasy as my blood slid down her throat.

I stood, finding Constance scared in the corner as Heather tried to comfort her. She looked at me and I smiled as I put a hand on her foot, trying to make sure she knew I wasn't upset at her. It was just Sharron I didn't like.

"Let her up and untie her, Brian," I said, going to stand by the fridge. Brian picked her up with one arm, and started to pull the tape from her arms. Once she was free, she looked at me expectantly, then at the others in the apartment and the one tiny bed that Constance and Heather currently occupied.

"So, what now," she asked me, hand going to her belt.

"Well, the trash usually take their business down to the street," I told her, my words causing her to stop undoing her belt. Constance was frightened enough, already. "You can earn my hundred bucks there. Since you seem to need the money so badly, after tonight you'll start looking for a new job."

"What do you want me to do," she asked, her voice small and frightened.

"After tonight? You'll still work the club when you're not going to be a movie star and model," I said, taking one of the Playboy magazines from Brian's back pocket. I opened it up at the middle at the centerfold and looked at the model there and her state of complete undress.

"But, I tried. They didn't want me," she said, almost crying again.

"That's not the only type of movie they make," I said, turning the magazine around to reveal the nude model. "Or the type of model they want."

"But, that's..."

"What you'll be doing from now on," I finished for her, my ire rising again as I handed Brian his dirty magazine. "Since you can't seem to make money the normal way, you'll start off across the street at the light post. That's a normal spot for the trash around here. Go there and find yourself some customers and bring Brian a hundred dollars. When you have it, you can go home and start looking for someone who needs a young slutty woman for 'special roles'."

"Alright," she breathed, hanging her head as she started out the door. Once she was gone, I looked at the rest of the group.

"So, how did house hunting go?" I said, trying to act like it was a normal night in the apartment.

"It don't feel real, at times," Brian said, still glum while looking out the window. "I used to be a two bit druggie who dealt a little on the side just so I could get women to sleep with me. Now, I'm checking out million dollar beach homes I'd expect somebody important to be living in, and that person is going to me. Taking that first sip was the best thing ever."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. After my parents died, I thought I could just throw myself into school and forget about it, but," Heather said, holding Constance close so both would have moral support. "That last one we saw though, that was fancy."

"I remember rule number one," Brian said, his voice low and serious, "So every time we were somewhere, I looked around to see how close people are and how easy it'd be to get away with something. All but one place had neighbors right across the wall from you, and that was the estate we went to last. You could kill someone there easy and not get noticed. No neighbors for almost a mile in either direction. The place is on a little point, and takes up the entire thing, so unless someone were just lucky..."

"You could fire off a gun and not raise suspicion. Like Dennis' house," I said, and Brian nodded.

"Plus, it's real fancy on the inside," Heather said, and Constance nodded.

"According to Patricia," Constance said, her voice sounding more sure of itself since I wasn't trying to scare everyone, "It was built by a lotto winner, but he was stupid and lost all of his money in Vegas. So he's selling the house he already paid for and furnished because he can't afford it anymore."

"Good," I said, and I went over to sit on the bed beside the girls and put a hand on her shoulder. "I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't know everyone would be affected."

"It's okay," she said, smiling at me. "I didn't realize you could be so scary, like Charlie on a bad drunk."

I looked back at Brian, who shook his head warningly at me. Apparently Charlie was her father figure and wasn't nice to her when he got drunk, which gave me a clear picture of what her home life was like and why she'd prefer to be my snack than at home being the entertainment. "So, I guess that means everyone like's the thirty million dollar home?"

Everyone started to talk at once, each illustrating differing points about the estate that they liked and none of it making any sense to me in the din. I smiled, even though I didn't understand one word the three talked about. Finally I held up my hands. "Alright, I get it. I'll talk to Walsh and see about buying it," I said, and they all cheered.

"Oh, your coat," Heather said, quickly getting up and getting the duster she was making for me. "It's not ready yet, but I got the sleeves on it and everything. It still needs a lining, and I've got a few things to plan out that I'm going to add to it, but we can do a fitting now."

She held the thick woolen duster open for me, so I got up and slipped my arms down the sleeves while Heather raised it up and settled it on my shoulders. It fit well, if a bit stiff, and Heather buttoned the three buttons it had over my stomach before going behind me to get something. I leaned over, seeing the panels fall just above my knees, but leaving the front open, meaning I'd have a lot of freedom of movement.

When Heather returned, it was with a long piece of leather she wrapped around my waist like a belt. She produced a piece of chalk and began making marks, which was intriguing. I'd never seen a tailor at work before and was really liking that Heather would be something of a personal seamstress for me. It was making me feel important. Soon, she pulled the leather belt off and slung it over her shoulders.

"So, what do you think?" she asked, looking at me expectantly. At times like this, I wish I could see myself in a mirror, but I wouldn't have my living painting until later, hopefully before the night was through and I was in my new beach home.

Looking at the coat though, it was designed to be somewhat loose, not so much hugging my curves but form fitting enough that it wasn't unisex. The lower panels seemed to be designed to split and protect my legs while on my bike, but being open and to the side when I would be doing something like running. I didn't know where I'd stash my pistol, but maybe Fat Larry knew something, which just left the sword I wanted to carry. At least it didn't need reloading.

"So, the sword?" I proffered to Brian, who went to retrieve it while I asked Heather another question. "Where will it go?

"Brian took me by several stores, and we actually looked at that," she said as Brian came up with the short katana and several small boxes. He laid them out and then handed a cane with a skull head to Heather. I raised an eyebrow at it, and Heather twisted it and slid out a sword. I almost laughed at the thought of using such a sword, but put a hand over my mouth to stifle it into a cough. "Cane sword," she said laughing. "I thought it was cute."

"I prefer something with a bit more bite," Brian said, pulling out another small sword. This one looked like a machete on steroids, on the verge of being considered a Chinese Dao. Brian handed me the sword, hilt first and I took the blade in hand. The hilt was just long enough to use two hands and was made of wrapped cord, with a blade length just shy of twenty inches. The blade curved like a typical dao, with a slight thickness at the leading curve for a good chop.

"Nice," I said, testing it as a cutting weapon. It lacked any reach to make it a good sword, but it'd do in a pinch. Plus, it'd be far quieter. I twirled the blade once, finding it nice, light and responsive. The only problem I could find with it was that it was a show weapon, designed to be put on a wall and admired and wouldn't withstand an actual battle.

"It's designed to be a ninja weapon," Brian said. "more fanciful than useful, I guess, but it's an idea. The scabbard is designed to be worn on your back, hidden under a coat. "

"Well, if you want useful," Constance said, pulling a small box from a bag, "try mine. I was going to ask why you didn't wear sunglasses when I woke up this morning but I forgot. I kind of figured you couldn't get close enough to buy any so I bought you a set," she said and handed me a box. I opened it, finding a set of sunglasses in it. They were a sports frame wrap-around type with a dark smoky lens with a mirror finish. I tried them on, and my world darkened a bit.

"Hey, I can't see your eyes, anymore" she said, and I smiled at her playful attitude and forward thinking. The idea of turning her kindred when she was older lit my brain, and I would have to talk to her about that one day.

"Let's try turning on the lights," I said, and Heather turned on the overhead lights. The room brightened to a normal glow, but not the brightness I last associated with them. "And who's idea was it to bring all the candles for me?" I asked them, as they all pointed to Constance. The kid was really proving useful, more so than my ghouls which made me like her more. I really needed more like her.

I thought about the only ghoul I hadn't seen yet, the one who could probably make me the most money. Angel was probably busy at Four-Play. I needed to pay her a visit before I went to the Trial tonight, and give her a fresh dose before she burnt through what she already had and made a fool of herself. I remembered what Brian had said before about her not having that last little bit to make it in movies, and wondered if my blood could cure that. If it did, maybe I could get a Toreador to put her in one and start her movie career.

Of course, that also meant that she would want to play herself as the head of the house, probably using the master suite. That could be arranged as I'd take a room where my body couldn't be seen, much less found by accident. I'd look the house over myself before deciding where I would sleep, but probably in the basement somewhere, or in a quiet corner of the attic that could be made to block all sunlight, either would need to be sealed from the inside so I couldn't, and wouldn't be disturbed.

Looking at Constance, I smiled at the young woman. She had a wicked smart mind, and was a forward thinker. She was still young, still learning the truth of the world, still frightened by some of the things that lurked in the shadows of the night. But I was going to guide her through it all, and make sure nothing harmed her.

"Well Constance," I said, addressing her directly. "Since you seem to be so helpful with everything, I'm giving you first choice of a room," I said, no more getting the words out before she nearly tackle hugged me to the floor. "I take it you're thrilled?"

Constance just squealed happily, and hugged me all the harder. Heather and Brian frowned, exchanging glances with each other. I caught the exchange, knowing they might pull something, and I was going to have to keep an eye on them. "Anything but the master suite," I said. "That's going to someone else."

"Who?" Heather asked me, and I was tempted to ask if she was an owl.

"Don't know yet," I told them. "I got something I need to work on, and when it gets realized, they might get the room."

"So who is this lucky someone?" Brian asked, frowning as he thought it over. "Can't be Sharron, unless you're one serious actress. You seemed ready to kill her."

"No, I won't kill her. And she's not going to be anything more than a lackey at this point," I told them and Brian relaxed. "I was thinking if I could get Angel moving towards being an actress, she might get the room. Otherwise, I need to find a pretty young thing and start making one young."

"As long as it's not me," Constance said, and I looked at the youngster in my arms. "Marilyn Monroe was my idol when I was a kid, and up until mom met Charlie, I wanted to be just like her."

"So what happened?" Brian asked, and I wish I could slap him.

"Charlie found out about my little obsession and told me if I wanted to be a real actress one day, I needed to get used to trading my body for things."

"Oh," Brian said, realizing the hole he just dug for himself. I hoped he had more brains than to dig it any deeper, but he dug on, "So, what did he do?"

"He traded me permission to be a cheerleader for my virginity," Constance said sourly, getting up off me and turning away from everyone. "When I finally ran out of hot water, and started to bleed from scrubbing so hard, I burned everything I had on her. I couldn't see how she traded her body like that."

"It was a different time, then," I told her, thinking about how Jean seemed so tough as we talked in her pickup.

"Yeah, well, next time you nearly drain me dry, I'll ask her," she said, going to look out the window. "It was nice to think she had come to just cuddle with me."

I watched Heather and Brian's face light up as they figured out Jean's secret identity. "Wait, that was Marilyn Monroe?" Heather breathed, and Brian sat hard on the bed.

"Can't be. She was way too butch. Marilyn was a sex icon, hottest woman on earth. That couldn't have been her."

"What are you guys talking about?" Constance asked, turning quickly from the window to face everyone.

"They are just now figuring out that the one of the Camarilla's deputies is a kindred named Marilyn Monroe," I told her, watching her mouth open in shock. "And to answer your next question, she had a bad first night. She got scared, took some drugs, and passed out. Woke up two days later during her autopsy. She's been hiding ever since, even from other kindred. No one but us and one other kindred know her real identity, and it is my order for it stay that way."

"Yes, mistress," Brian and Heather acknowledged simultaneously.

"Marilyn Monroe is alive?" Constance said, no surprise showing in her voice. She actually sounded somewhat like a jilted lover.

"Do you want to meet her sometime?" I asked her, and she turned back to the window.

"Yeah," she said, after pausing a moment and sighing as she thought it over. "I guess I can't blame her for my stupid, perverted step-father."

"Hey," I said, going over and hugging her. "You're loved here." Constance sighed, relaxing into me as she did so.

"Kind of loved, anyway. I don't know what the blood does to you, or them, but I don't know if it's love. Heather, she's okay, I guess but she seems to want to impress you so she can keep you to herself. She worked most of the night and what bit of the day we were home on the coat trying to get it ready for you. If we hadn't been gone shopping and looking at houses, she might have finished it.

"Brian, he reminds me of Charlie. You know he wouldn't even look away when I changed at my house? I had to strip in front of him!" I looked at Brian who seemed ready to bolt. I was definitely going to have words with him later. "I think the only reason he protected me from Charlie that day was so he could bring me back to you."

"Well, that's his job," I said, hugging her. "He's supposed to protect us. But if anyone harms you, even him, you tell me okay. I'll protect you from everything in the night." Constance nodded, putting her arms over mine. I looked down at the street to see Sharron standing in the streetlight waiting for a customer. She waved to a passing car, flashing her chest as it passed by. After a few moments, Constance lifted an arm to pull her hair away from her neck to showcase her bare skin. The enticement was clear, but I remembered Jean's warning.

"Not tonight, sweetie," I said, kissing the spot. "You're still weak from last night."

"Please," she pleaded, wrapping an arm around my head to pull my head down again. "It's the best feeling in the world. Don't deny me this. Maybe not more than a taste?"

I nodded, lowering my head to her neck and extending my fangs. I bit shallowly, taking a few sips of her blood as she wallowed in the ecstasy my bite offered her before pulling away. She went limp, and I picked her up and carried her to the bed and settled her in.

Heather pulled out the makeup kit and picked up a brush. I settled myself into the chair, taking off my new shades and letting her work while I thought over Constance's desire to have me feed from her while she was in such a precarious position. Did she not know how sick she was? Or did she not care? She wasn't dumb, and she seemed smart enough to be a world class doctor one day. One thought sped through my brain, she was an adrenaline junkie. It made some sense, to me at least, as that would explain why she seemed to accept her fate as my evening snack. Even having me feed from her as she barely clung to life.

Soon, though, Heather had my makeup done and I was able to stand and put my shades back on. Brian pulled out one last box, as I pulled my money cigarettes and lighter from my bag, stashing all of it in a pants pocket and eyed the box which was too large to carry any type of gun. "Since you're going to be riding a Harley, I thought you might want to somewhat look the part of a biker chick," he said as he opened the box to reveal a black vest. I pulled it out, finding it had a large Harley-Davidson logo on the back and sides that laced up. I slipped it on, and buttoned it up while Heather retied the sides.

Once it was on and tied tight, I looked at Brian. "Follow me," I told him and headed down the stairs. I didn't look back, knowing he was going to do as he was told. Once I was down in the alley, I stepped into the shadows and turned back to face Brian.

"Do you want to tell me what the deal was with treating Constance like your own personal harlot?" I snapped at him.

"I can't get my mind off of you," he admitted.

"So that gives you a pass on treating her like your own personal sex slave?" I said hotly, almost ready to yell at him. He shrank under my stare, and I couldn't help but feel my beast stir. "If you ever mistreat her again, you better run because I will rip your head off your shoulders. You hear me, ghoul?"

Brian nodded again, looking small and scared as he finally sank to his knees and cowered under my gaze. "P-P-P-Please, m-m-mistress," he begged me, voice quivering from fear, "I-I'm sorry. I d-didn't mean any harm by it."

I reached down and grabbed him by the hair and lifted him even to my eyes. "Only warning, Brian. One more screw up, and I will take every last drop of your blood." Brian whimpered, and I released him to fall to the ground. "Now go make sure Heather and Constance stay safe."

"Yes, mistress," he said quickly then scampered back through the door to head home. I watched him leave before straddling my bike, deciding to take a moment to calm myself before riding off.

I glanced to the end of the alley, looking to see if Sharron was still struggling for a customer but didn't see her anywhere. I began to wonder if she had vamoosed or if she was busy with a customer. I looked down the shadow filled alley, and decided to test my powers out. I concentrated on the shadow at the far end, and suddenly I was looking back towards my body. I looked down to see Sharron was on her knees sucking the cock on a well endowed, if overweight, customer. I tried to close my eyes, but the vision wasn't physical in nature. It actually took me a bit to figure out I had to want to stop it through mental will, more than just a simple thought of 'Not that!'

Shaking my head, I thought about what all I needed to do in the few hours I had before the trial. Grout said I needed to find Rosa, so I headed to the beach first. It would also let me tell E and Lily about Thin Bloods. So, with a last glance down the alley where my ghoul worked, I started my bike and headed for the beach, which was hardly far enough away to warrant the bike except that it made it where I wouldn't have to come back to get it.

Once at the beach, I parked it in the garage and headed down the access stairs to the beach where I'd met E before. He and Lily sat on the beach, side by side looking out over the waves as I approached.

"Hey lovebirds," I called to them as I got closer.

"Hey, there you are," E said in his Australian accent. "We was gettin' concerned you weren't comin' back."

"Had a lot to do," I told them. "But I did find out about Thin Bloods, if you want to hear it."

"Sure," Lily said, and patted the sand beside her. "Pull up a beach and sit."

I did, and then started telling them what I knew. "Apparently, Lily, you are a twelfth generation kindred. We use the term Kindred because saying vampire can draw attention to us. At thirteenth generation, which is what E is, you lose the ability to feed. Apparently, at that point, you're so thin you're hardly called kindred anymore."

"So why do they hunt us down?" Lily asked me.

"Not you, him and them," I said, gesturing at the others along the beach. "Lily, as a twelfth generation, you have protection of a sort. But, Thin Bloods...There's a book, a kind of bible for kindred. It details the time when Thin Bloods start to rise to power. When they do, Gehenna, which is kindred Armageddon, happens and we all die and get judged. Apparently they think that by culling the Thin Bloods from the cities, they can hold off Gehenna indefinitely."

"That's..." E started to say, then hung his head.

"That's terrible," Lily said. "Well, we planned to leave anyway," she said, rubbing E on the back as she tried to console him.

"Yeah," I said, looking the handful of people on the beach over searching for Rosa. "You guys know where I can find Rosa?"

"Yeah," E said, glancing down the beach to where a burn barrel lit a patch of sand. "That's her in the purple sweater."

"Thanks, and you two might think of getting out of here tonight. Though if you stay, Lily needs to head downtown to a place called Nocturne Theater. We're having a kindred's trial and attendance is mandatory."

"What's that?" E asked me.

"Like it sounds. When someone breaks the Camarilla's laws, they have a Trial. If you can't prove your innocence, you're sentence is carried out at the end. Usually, it ends in death."

"So what are the laws?" Lily asked me. "In case we end up somewhere in the Camarilla."

"First, announce yourself to the prince. He has to grant you the right to be in his city, and that includes the right to feed. Second, keep a lid on your beast. You start rampaging and killing innocents, they will stop you. Three, no creating more kindred without permission. You got lucky with E. No one knows he exists as you're not in main kindred society. Four, and most importantly, keep the secret secret. No one is to know you're kindred, even if you have to kill to protect it. Fail that one, and everyone will come for you."

"Thanks, and thanks for getting me out," Lily said. "Come on, I'll introduce you to Rosa. She can be a bit odd."

"It's appreciated," I said, following her over to the raven haired woman. She watched me approach, picking up a stick and throwing into the barrel as we got close enough to talk.

"I cannot help you," she said, her voice low and heavily accented in Spanish as she stared at the sand under her in the firelight. "I thought I was cursed. But you, you have it far worse."

Lily mouthed 'sorry' before kneeling beside Rosa. "What do you mean?" I asked before Lily could say anything.

"You carry a curse that eats you, gnawing at your soul. He is like a parasite, making you stronger even as you grow weaker. He will devour you, maybe, maybe not. The scales have not decided."

"Is there a way to stop it? Maybe a kindred can..."

"No childe of the Dark Father can help you. The path he has set you down has entwined you together. Only the strongest wins."

I nodded, trying to figure out what I could do. If it all that mattered was strength, how does one get stronger? "If I win," I asked her, hoping she could answer this question. "Does he go away?"

"He fades, becoming like the beast we carry. Always there, but unable to harm you anymore.

"Great," I said rather sourly, finally piecing together what she was saying. If I couldn't overcome Lasombra by pure strength of will, he'd take me over like a second beast. Well, wasn't letting that happen.

I fished in my bag for some twenties, splitting them between Rosa and Lily. "Thanks for the help. Take care of yourself, okay?"

They nodded their thanks and I left wondering if personal power meant anything in my upcoming mental battle. Couldn't hurt, I suppose, so I went back by the apartment to check on Sharron. The ghoul was just coming out of the alley as a car sped off with squealing tires. I pulled up in front of her, killing the motor as she came to stand by me.

"Get my hundred yet?" I asked her, and she shook her head.

"He only gave me twenty," she said rubbing at her cleavage with her panties and giving me a dirty look that threatened violence. "That was gross, by the way."

"Well," I said, locking eyes with her and steeling myself. I should at least make myself follow through on my actions, and mean what I say. "If you're having trouble with just one, maybe you should get used to it."

"What do you mean," she said, her mouth opening in shock.

"Stay here all night long servicing customers at forty bucks a pop. Give the money to Brian if I'm not back by sunrise," I said and she started to pout.

"But, it's gross and I might catch something," she whined, and I felt somewhat guilty about making her do this. I forced the guilt down, telling myself she chose my 'drug' as a thrill of her own free will. In fact, if I thought about it, only one of my ghouls was forced into it and that was Heather, but I didn't hear her complaining. She seemed to enjoy the benefits.

"Then tomorrow night, bring lots of condoms," I said. "Oh, and if you meet a pimp out here, I want his name. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said hanging her head.

"Now, where is Four-Play? I need to go check on my other ghoul."

"You made that bitch Angel your ghoul too? That's how she got the guys away from me?"

"Yes, but she paid full price for her fix. All three thousand of it. She actually makes money stripping, unlike you," I said, watching her face fall.

"It's on Cotner, just south of Olympic next to the freeway," she said, eyeing a car coming up behind me and I started the bike and pulled away to let her work. The last I saw before I turned a corner was Sharron leaning in through the window to talk with the driver. I couldn't help but feel guilty again, and forced myself to believe that she had made her own bed and I was just making her sleep in it.

Finding Four-Play wasn't hard, the building lit by neon lights in the dark. I parked in the provided parking lot in front of the building and walked in, finding myself in what looked like a motel lobby. The guy behind the counter started to say something, but he stopped at my stare and gestured for me to proceed through a turnstile. Inside the club area, I found myself looking at the stage where a bunch of guys sat around the stage as a blond with an obvious boob job removed her top to the cheers of the men assembled.

I sat in an empty chair at a table next to the entrance, watching as the blond would tease guys by rubbing their face into her cleavage, and one guy got to bury his face between her legs after he held up a twenty. As the song ended, the DJ announced the next girl as June, as the first girl gathered up her clothes and disappeared down some steps built into the back of the stage. A waitress came by, asking for my order. I ordered a Pepsi, and she disappeared, coming back just as June finished. I paid with a twenty, getting seventeen in change back and I nearly balked at the cost of such a small drink. At least I had change for getting Angel's attention later.

As June's song finished, the DJ announced Angel as the next dancer. I took my drink and hurried up the stage, snagging a chair on the corner as Angel walked up the steps, her presence in full swing as every eye in the place fell on her. If I was noticed, she didn't give any indication as the music started and she put on a show, dancing around the pole and teasing the customers.

She was dressed in full white like her angelic name, with a rainbow array of philomene flowers in a crown on top of her long and luscious dark hair as if she were a bride on her wedding day. Her top was made of lace and gave just a hint of modesty of her bouncing bosom, and the skirt had a waistband of lace and a mesh bottom that revealed her long and tanned legs ending just above her ankle and putting her golden calf high wrapped cord stilettos on full display.

I couldn't help but feel some attraction to her, and chalked it up to her minimal presence ability affecting my brain. I pulled the ten dollar bill the waitress had given me and held it up, which caused Angel to come over to stand in front of me at the edge of the stage. She dropped down, putting her chest in my face before lifting her top and burying my head between her bare breasts. My first reaction was to pull away, but I found I was actually loving the intimacy of this. Soon, she let me go, holding her garter belt away from her leg so I could slip my ten in, and then she resumed her dancing.

When the song was over, and she had disappeared through down the stairs, I went back to my table to wait on her. After dancers Desire, Ivy, and Anna came out and danced, Angel appeared from a door behind the stage and headed for my table after spotting me.

"Hey, is there a problem," she said, sitting beside me.

"First dose isn't as strong as initial thoughts led me to believe," I said, remembering the lie I had previously told her about my blood." Probably just the size and weight ratio not being right. Amber came for her fix and was in a pretty bad way by the time I got to her, so I'm here to make sure you don't end up like her if you want to keep taking it."

"Oh, definitely," she said, almost laughing. I looked around at the disappointed guys who almost openly stared at us as we talked and got the idea she was pretty hot stuff. I smiled at one guy, as I pulled my wad of money and waved it at him as if to say he didn't have as deep a pocket as me and he turned away.

"So, let's go somewhere private," I said, noticing that even the bouncers had noticed us together. Words were exchanged in walkie-talkies, and the bouncer holding it looked concerned over something.

"I know a spot," she said, looking upstairs and the small rooms they had and the curtains that were closed on some.

"Cameras?"

"Ceiling, but they're mostly on the stage and the semi-private dancing areas. The VIP area upstairs has one on the stairs only" she said, getting up and leading me by the hand to a nearby set of stairs. We climbed up, the upstairs area darker and more private and past a bouncer who nodded to Angel and me as we went into an empty booth. I sat on the leather couch as Angel closed the curtains then pointed out the camera just outside the booth that faced the stairs. Thankfully it was pointed away from our booth, so anything we did was completely private.

"So, you got it on you?" she said, as she leaned in close in her lingerie and gave me a beautiful view down her top.

"First off, there's a quick truth you need to know," I said, as I got in close enough to almost whisper in her ear and be heard. "I'm a vampire, and you are my ghoul."

"Nice try, hot stuff," she said, laughing as she straightened up. "Prove it."

"Strip," I told her, and while still laughing, she got up and removed her clothes, laying each garment on the divan across from us. It wasn't until she had dropped her g-string that she realized what she had done and tried to cover herself.

"You really are..." she said, her voice trailing off as the weight of it sank in. I nodded, and then patted the spot beside me. She sat down tantalizingly close, and I eyed her well cared for body.

"Do you want your next dose?" I asked her, putting my arm around her bare shoulders and pulling her in tight.

"Yes please," she said, her nose sniffling as if she were ready to cry.

"Are you crying" I said, pulling the hair away from her face to see her better.

"Am I going to end up like Renfield? Eating bugs and going insane?" she whispered, her proximity to me the only reason I heard it over the blaring techno music of the club.

"Not that I know of," I told her, and she looked at me. "I didn't lie about what it can do. You'll live your full life and longer as long as you drink my blood, never aging or growing old, always beautiful and young like you are today. As for what I want from you in the long run? I want to turn you into a movie star. Some of your money will of course be deferred to me, but never to the point your broke."

"So, you don't want me here forever?"

"Not if I can help it," I told her and she smiled. I raised my wrist to my lips and used my fangs to puncture my skin and let the blood flow. She licked the trail of blood off my arm before sucking on the wounds themselves and drinking me into her. When I pulled my wrist away, she leaned against me and moaned at the rapture she felt. I couldn't help but admire the view of her naked body as she relaxed against me and I placed my arms around her to keep her from falling to the floor.

Knowing that I needed to wait to avoid strange stares from the bouncer, I decided to stay in the booth for a bit longer, my hand dropping a bit to stroke her breast with a finger. Angel took a moment to recover, then finally turned her head to face me.

"That's a hell of a kick," she said, smiling. I licked my dry lips as I stared into her eyes, my whole body tingling with desire as I held the modelesque woman. Finally I decided that I was a grown woman and could love who and how I wanted and kissed her strawberry flavored lips. She returned the kiss, and for several long moments we stayed that way.

When we broke apart, she was breathing fast. "How about a private dance?"

I smiled, and she got up as the DJ announced a girl named Dominique. The speakers began to play a slow beating pulse, and Angel began swaying to the beat in front of me, making her entire body a sexual display as the guitar rang its chord. The drums played on, with Angel getting closer as the synthesized sound of "In The Air Tonight" filled the club. Soon, Angel was pressing her body against me, breathing her hot breath into my ear. Her hands ran down my sides as Phil Collins began to sing, then down my legs to my knees.

She slid down my front, pushing my knees apart to kneel in front of me on the couch. Her hands kept rubbing my thighs, sending waves of pleasure up my legs and making me bring my legs together at the intense feeling. Angel didn't protest, as she suddenly wrapped her strong hands under my legs and pulled me almost all the way off the couch, or at least far enough that my ass was barely on the seat cushion anymore. I was about to protest when I could feel Angel's hot breath over my lower-most pants button, and I moaned.

Ideas of what was about to happen began to play quickly through my head, adding to my mental confusion. Half of my brain thought she surely wouldn't go that far, while the other half screamed for her to quit teasing me. Angel though, wasn't ready for me to have any release yet, and began crawling up on top of me, kissing and rubbing me in places no other woman had ever touched before until we were looking into each others eyes. She continued on, rubbing my face into her cleavage as she straddled my chest. Soon, she was kneeling over me, giving me a close up view of her womanhood before starting to slide down, pressing her womanhood against my nose to slide her body the entire way down until we were eye to eye again.

Angel leaned over, dropping one of her pastie covered teats onto my lips. I opened my mouth and began sucking on her bosom. Angel moaned, undulating her body roughly into me as she straddled my left leg, her hands undoing my leather pants as I sucked on her plastic coated nipple. When she had my pants fully unbuttoned, she sat upright on my leg and pulled the top of my leather pants down to bare my panties.

Angel then slipped my panties down, baring my own womanhood before dipping her leg between my womanhood and panties. Just then the tempo changed and the drums rolled and began to beat, intensifying the music. I lost the ability to think as Angel ground her bare womanhood into my leg and her leg ground into mine while undulating and gyrating on my hip and keeping time with the more frantic beat of the song. It was sweet joy to me, the pleasure I felt wrapped up in the heat and pleasure had me wanting more. Angel was panting, sweat already forming on her skin as she kept up the frantic pace, though she leaned forward and ran her other hands up my body to massage my chest.

'When in Rome,' I thought, lifting my own hands to embrace Angel's bare and sweating body. She moaned at my soft caresses, her muscles tensing as she regaled herself of the full range of pleasure to be taken in the situation. I could feel Angel tense more, her now vise-like grip on my leg giving testimony to the joy she was feeling as she began to arch her back as we enjoyed ourselves. My own feelings of lust spurring me to caress the only part of her body now within reach, her bare and ample bosom. I had no more began to caress the fleshy mounds when Angel gave a high pitched moan. Her hands immediately snapped to mine and she began to quiver throughout her body as she reached peak, every muscle tensed and taut.

The moment over, she began to relax, pooling in a fleshy puddle on my front as she panted in my ear. I put my arms around her, comforting and nurturing her even though I wished her to go on. Angel though, offered no movement as she lay on top of me, and my own feelings subsided to leave me yearning again for the experience while my brain kept imagining what it'd be like to achieve the heights of ecstasy with another woman.

'Is it rape if I have her come to the house and share a bed with me?' I thought, wondering that since she couldn't resist my command she had no ability to say no to whatever order I gave. Suddenly, I felt dirty as I thought of Sharron as she sold herself to strangers just outside my apartment without protection. Did I have any right to steal a person's life like that? I forced that thought away, again trying to force myself to remember Sharron had chosen the course that she wanted, even bartered for my blood, practically begging for it, and that was before the first drop passed her lips.

No, Sharron had made her bed, and I wouldn't have her on the street corner hooking if she could truly make money. Angel finally began to stir on top of me, bringing me back to reality.

"Hmm, sweetie," she purred, looking into my eyes with nothing but love and a smile of satisfaction. "I think I made a mess."

"Do you do that for all your clientele?" I asked as I wrapped my arms around her naked body and held her close.

"Just those that tip me four grand," she finally admitted, her lip quivering. "that's why there's no camera's watching what we do up here. Also, notice the music is much louder up here? That's because the speakers are up here to cover up any stray moans."

"Is that why Amber can't make any money? She won't put out?" I asked Angel, who nodded before laying her head on my collarbone.

"My first night in here, I had a customer offer me ten grand after I danced for him if I'd let him..." she said, her voice trailing off. "Of course, I refused. I wanted to save myself for marriage and he left. Jokes on me though. Duke took my virginity before I went home that night anyway," she said, her body giving a small hiccup at the sad memory as she probably relived that night. "Looking back, I could see that was my first lesson. It's best to take the money and put out, or they'll find a way to take it anyway. Though I doubt you'd understand that."

I gave a hmm in response. "I can. Not long ago I was kidnapped by a maniac and tied to a bed while he let his gang do everything imaginable to me," I said, hugging Angel tight to my chest as I thought for the first time since it ended of that grungy bed I was tied to and the things I had endured there. "I think that last night, when he made them all stop, he let me escape to see if I had the strength to get up and run for it."

"Is that how you got away?"

"No." I told her, thinking of the fear of seeing Simeon walk out into of the warehouse and chasing me through the alleys. "He chased me down and killed me. But he deemed me worthy to become kindred. I'm probably lucky that the Camarilla caught him and saved me from what he had planned. He was one warped man, and he wanted to turn me into a monster like him, I think."

"I guess that's something to be grateful for," she said, forcing herself to roll off of me with a grunt. I pushed myself back up on the couch and looked down at my leg and the shiny spot she left behind. Reaching under the couch, she produced a box of tissues and began using one to wipe my leather and herself clean. "So, how long you been…?" she asked as she tried to make conversation.

"About a week. The Camarilla rescued me last Friday," I told her and she snapped her head to face me.

"So, you're not that old? Do vampires even age?"

"No, I'm not," I told her. "And no, we don't age. I've seen hundred and fifty year old kindred who look as young and vibrant as you do. I suppose that never changes unless the person does, and the centuries weigh on you."

"What do you mean about it weighing on you?" She asked with her head on my shoulder as we lay in each others arms.

"Ever wonder what it's like to see everyone you know grow old, the way things are done change? I couldn't help but think of the way Michele and Walsh have seen things change since the mid 1800's. Telephones, power, running water…Everything about their world has changed, and now I'm going to live to see what the next century brings."

"So what do you do? I mean, if everything changes? How do you deal with that?"

"By building a business empire, I guess. Or at least a personal empire. Almost every kindred I've seen that's been around for awhile has some sort of business that they run."

"So, you intend to run an agency? With me as your first client?" she asked, lifting her head to look at me.

"Yeah," I said, and Angel curled back up next to me. I probably could have laid next to her all night long, but I had that Trial to get to. "Well, I have a meeting to attend," I told her as I began to untangle myself.

"Can you put it off?" Angel asked as she sat up on the couch and pulled her leg from between mine and seemingly comfortable with being nude as she didn't even try to cover herself.

"Nope, attendance is mandatory, it seems," I said, getting to my feet and pulling up my panties and leather pants. I walked to the curtain, then looked back to see Angel just getting up and pulling up her g-string.

"Just leave the curtain down and you can head on out," she said as she looked at me, and I slipped out of the curtain. The bouncer at the head of the stairs seemed to be waiting for me to come out, keying up his walkie-talkie. That made two more men in dark clothing turn and face me from the bottom of the stairs.

I couldn't help but feel a bit of panic as I passed the first bouncer and the way he eyed me. It wasn't sexual in anyway, as his eyes constantly roamed over and around me, sizing me up for a fight. I barely heard him say something about weapons as I went down the stairs. One of the men then drew my attention by unbuttoning his coat and pulling it aside enough for me to see the butt of a gun. Judging by the slight bulge under the arm of the other man, he was also carrying something.

I briefly thought about trying to force my way out of here, but any type of fight and the cops would pull the security footage. My eyes were one thing, but I wasn't going to show up on any camera, and that would raise a lot of questions. No, my only way out of here was by playing nice and ditching them later, preferably taking the tape of my time here before it could be checked. At the bottom of the stairs, the guy who hadn't flashed his gun grabbed me by the arm. I gave him a cold gaze, and though he flinched, didn't back off.

"Ma'am, follow me," he said, his voice low and menacing. I nodded, and the one who flashed his gun led the way through the club to a rear door, while the other followed behind me. They took me through the door, which had two doors behind it. One was an emergency exit door, probably to satisfy some fire code, while the other was a heavy wooden door. The guy in front of me opened it, staying outside while I was roughly pushed through to the other side.

I quickly took in the room. It was small, consisting of a private stage on the far end with a pole running into the roof lit by a small array of lights. A black, leather couch faced it, looking rather stressed with evenly spaced scratch marks from fingernails all over the leather. A man sat at a corner desk directly to my left, with a cheep chair for visitors to sit on. He also had several monitors showing the club's various cameras cycling in a display behind him. One thing was certain, with the door now shut, and the club's music a very faint pulse coming through the walls, no one would hear a scream from the soundproof room.

"So, did Velour send you?" the man in the suit said from behind the desk. I was guessing he was the club's owner, which made me either a prospective dancer, or a threat by the way his bouncers behaved.

"Who's Velour?" I asked him, crossing my arms and staring him down through my sunglasses. He continued to eye me, probably trying to tell if I were lying or not.

"Velvet Velour is the owner of Vesuvius, the only other place that's even remotely considered better than mine. She hires only the best dancers for her club, most of them struggling models, and now she's after Angel," he said as he continued to eye me. "From what I've been able to dig up, her real name is Susan Murphy. Real heavy into drugs and prostitution. Served a year, then another after violating her parole. Now she's got her own club, trying to hide her past behind a ton of plastic surgery. Supposed to still be a looker, but I don't see it.

"So if you're not here for Velour, why the interest in Angel?"

"Sex?" I said, shrugging and smiling innocently at him. He didn't seem to find it amusing as he scowled at me. One thought did spin through my brain. If he wasn't reacting to my light complexion, he probably wasn't a ghoul. Meaning this was another one of those rare opportunities to make a play for his business. I just had to survive if he turned me down. Of course, I thought smiling, now that we were alone, maybe my presence could help me now.

"A hot woman like you doesn't spend four grand to sleep with another woman. A man I could understand, that's why we exist, but not a woman," he said, leaning back in his chair. "The last person she sent to me was supposed to pick her up and take her to Velour. Sent him back in a wheelchair. That was last week, so we've been watching."

"Cutthroat business, huh?" I said and he nodded. "So I take it you run this place all on your own? No silent partner I should be worried about before making any deals?"

He smiled at that. "What kind of deal? Want to dance on my stage so you can get closer to your lover?" he said in a somewhat mocking tone.

"I was thinking of giving you a contract alright," I said, making his smile grow even more as I eyed the well scratched couch to my right. I couldn't help but think of Angel saying she lost her virginity to a man named Duke, and add in the couch…Yeah, he was a bad one. But even they could be useful in their own way. Besides, I needed a money train if I was going to buy Malibu beachfront property tonight. The taxes alone would be horrendous.

"The real reason I'm here," I finally began to admit, looking back at him, "Is that I'm looking for businesses to expand into, becoming a sort of silent partner."

"What are you offering, exactly? I've got all the money I need," he said as he studied me.

I mentally went through my cards, finally settling on the Godfather approach. It seemed to work for the Sicilian mobster, but like my other ghouls, I'd give him somewhat of a choice.

"How about you agree to take my drug, and defer twenty-five percent of your profits to me, or I spread your blood all over the floor," I deadpanned, kicking my presence in at full effect and making him flinch. I watched his face, as he seemed to fight it, but eventually he began to shrink in his chair.

I smiled thinking I had won when his arm shot forward and drew a gun. He pointed it at me, and he seemed to find his backbone in the steel contraption. "What say we spread your blood on the floor," he growled at me. He was certain he had the upper hand until I began laughing, that wiped the smile off his face. I took that as a cue and forced my fangs out a bit and he began to turn white as he realized he was in over his head.

"Do it," I said, and the gun lowered a bit. "Fire that gun and give me every reason to shove it down your throat. I'm a vampire," I told him, feeling my pointy canines bite into my lip when I wasn't speaking, so I knew they had to be visible. "That gun will no more work on me than a water pistol. So, either fire your gun and die, or come kneel in front of me like the slave you are."

He studied my face, then lowered the pistol. "What happens to me?" he asked, and I retracted my fangs so I could better talk business, or talk in general. Didn't realize how hard it was to speak with them out and wondered if that was why Dracula talked funny in the movies. Certainly seemed to throw my enunciation off.

"You run your little club however you want. I don't know enough about that to have much of an opinion, so I leave it to professionals," I said, and he somewhat relaxed. "All you do is make weekly payments to me for my cut of the profits. If anything comes up, like this Velour business again, you let me handle it. I might take her club over too, if she's not kindred."

"What about my motel?" he asked, and I raised an eyebrow. "It's for the girls, mostly. I got a franchise down the street that I shuttle the girls between if they have no home. Most of the girls here came to work in Hollywood, only coming here for work because their broke and have only their looks and can't do much else."

"So like Angel, you break their will and sully them so they feel they can never go home?" I said, almost disgusted that I was doing business with the man. Shouldn't I have ethics or something?

"I found out a long time ago that clubs do better where the girls put out. Angel tell you about the trust fund kid she declined when she first came here?" he asked and I nodded. "He complained to me, and yeah, I brought her in and pulled her card. Let her know that if she doesn't put out, I'd put her out. Ever since she's been good to me, like all my other girls."

"Well, this is a package affair," I said, deciding that if the girl didn't have the will to complain to the cops, they certainly wouldn't have the will to stand in court and put the man away. It was a hard lesson I had to be taught once, even though I was only eleven when I learned it. You had to stand up to your bully otherwise you were nothing. I guess it was the best thing I ever learned in that place. Sensei was wise, but I was young and foolish.

Shaking my head of the memory of being so thoroughly disgraced in my sensei's dojo, I pressed on. "Twenty five percent of all profit, in ANY business you have, run, or make a profit from."

"So this is a racketeering operation? I get 'protection' while you get money."

"You also get a long life as long as I'm happy, and if you're attacked, say beaten by five men with baseball bats to the point that most men would die, you'll still be strong enough to call for help and I can have you back on your feet in a day or two. Plus, you seem to get one of my 'special' abilities. Angel can attract any man she wants, whether the man is interested in her or not. Not sure about the rest yet, I'm actually very young, vampirically speaking."

He nodded, getting out from behind his desk and coming around to face me. He didn't look all the certain, but he had left the gun behind. He seemed to think for a moment, then lowered himself to his knees in front of me, the movement stiff and making him wince in pain. He caught my observation with a grimace.

"Old football injury," he explained. "Got sacked by a punk who missed his dive, hit me full force in the knee. Not been able to bend it all that well since."

I nodded, moving beside him and bit into my wrist, opening a pair of small holes and held it in front of him. "Drink," I told him, and he took my wrist in his large hands and hesitated for a moment, before putting it to his lips and sucking on the wounds. I let him have a few mouth-fulls before pulling it away, and he leaned heavily against his desk as my blood went down his throat to become part of him.

I moved past him, sitting in his chair and eying the security system. It was unfamiliar to me, so I studied the screens, watching the girls as they danced for patrons. Soon, I could hear my new ghoul groan behind me, and I turned to face him.

"The pain's gone," he said, rising to his feet quickly. "My knee even works better."

"Fringe benefits for joining the club," I said and he spun to face me. He grimaced at seeing me in his chair, but didn't say anything else. "You are my fifth ghoul. Angel is number four, Amber is actually number three."

"I thought she seemed to get better. I dismissed it as Angel having a bad night when she got her customers back the next night."

"That would have been after I dosed her," I said and he nodded. "Numbers one and two are Heather and Brian. Heather is my personal stylist, and Brian is my daytime protector. You can go to them if you need to contact me if I can't answer my cell," I said as I wrote out my number on a post-it note.

"Do you have any idea where Amber is? I was expecting her to show up tonight, but she's not at the motel and certainly not here."

"She's hooking for me," I said and he grimaced, clearly wanting to say more but wise enough to know I might take offense at that.

"She'd make more money if she were here," he finally said, deciding that was the line least likely to get him killed. Not that I would. Even the simple math of how much a girl could make in a night times how many different girls I saw added up to a lot of money fast. Not that it was all about money, but I wasn't going to cut my nose off to spite my face.

"She's going to move sideways a bit, do some adult film shoots. Having two dancing ghouls in one club isn't working out for them," I said, and he nodded. "Also, does this security system record everything on a tape? Or does it have to be recorded manually?"

"It records to a tape," he said, leaning against the wall. "I have to be able to rewind and watch girls to make sure they do what their supposed to do, and make them obey if they don't."

"Make sure then, that the tapes of tonight are misplaced permanently. Other kindred, which is our word for vampires, might show up on camera, but I don't. We have a very strict law on letting people know we exist, so keep my existence as kindred secret. Understood?"

"Comprendo," he said, moving over to a wall and lifting a panel to reveal a VCR. He pulled a tape from it, handing it to me, before sticking a fresh one in and letting it record. "If you want to stay off the cameras, you can use the side door to leave. It can take you back to the street."

"Good," I said, then picked up the sticky note with my number and handed it to him. "This is my personal cell phone number. Need me, call me. Otherwise, I'll see you in about a week for your next fix. And don't be hard on Amber when she comes back tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, backing away and opening the door, sensing I was ready to leave. A glance at the clock said it was just past eight-fifteen, so I needed to hurry.

"Thank you," I said, showing a small deference in front of his men so he could keep up appearances as the boss here. Most men didn't like working for a man who worked for a woman, or seemed to anyway. Must be a male thing.

"Anytime," he said, smiling as he caught what I was doing. "Sorry you don't have what I'm looking for, and for the mix up. I thought you worked for someone else."

"Not a problem. Have a nice day," I said, then turned and left the club by way of emergency exit, catching a glimpse of his two bulldogs eyeing my butt as I left. Typical men. If it were a threat, they'd beat it to death. If it weren't, well, they'd still beat it, just in a different way.

I headed back to the front and sat on my bike, feeling glad I was working the money flow out. Twenty-five percent of this club's proceeds would likely pay for most of my current life choices, but it never hurt to have more. Plus, his motel would likely come in handy if I needed use of extra rooms.

Starting my bike, and backing it out of its slot, I got on the freeway and started booking it for downtown. I certainly didn't want to be late, and I needed to ask around to see if this Miss Velour was a ghoul or a kindred that I would have to talk to about staying out of my club. Or, if she wasn't, maybe make an offer to her.

Girls did want to stay young and beautiful after all.


	25. Chapter 25 - Trials and Tribulations

Chapter 25 – Trials and Tribulations

October 1, 2004 = Friday

I was able to make good time with light traffic, my Harley purring right along. For me, it was a time to think, with not much else to do as I hummed along with my subconscious doing most of the ticking down to my exit. I noticed the gas gauge reading into the red as I slowed to take the exit, and idled it to a pump at an all night gas station.

I popped the cap off, fueling it up at a buck and a quarter per gallon and ended up putting in five dollars worth which filled it up. I went inside to pay the cashier, noticing a rack of CD's. One caught my eye, titled "Pieces of You" and I picked it up. Tracks one and ten made me smile, remembering them from when I was first in college. Track ten actually made me feel at home in my dorm room, the first time I had ever tried living away from home. Listening to it had brought me some peace with its simple guitar melody, and I couldn't see starting my life over without it.

Placing the CD on the counter, the guy rang it all up and I paid for it, taking the CD back out and putting it into the saddlebag next to the tape of my time at Four-Play, then got on and started my bike back up, heading for the theater. Rounding the corner, I was shocked at the sheer number of cars and vehicles lined up. Every kindred in the city was here and it looked that number was several hundred strong. At least there was a place near the entrance for motorcycles where I pulled in and parked. I looked them over as I dismounted, seeing some as old as the concept itself to modern ones like the one I had. No two were alike, and one even had handlebars that were taller than I stood, and I wondered how the guy drove it. Some seemed to be works of art, both in construction and the fanciful artwork displayed on the gas tank. All seemed to be in good condition, with the worst defect noticeable being worn out seats from supposed years, if not decades, of riding.

It felt kind of strange to be entering the place where I came so close to meeting my end. Entering the theater, several men in uniforms stood screening all entrants for weapons. That was a laugh, considering what the Tremere could do to your blood as I remembered poor Kenny. The Tremere kindred hadn't stood a chance when one of his own clan turned on him, causing him to blow up and coat the wall in blood.

I cued up, putting my money, lighter and cigs in the basket and stepping through the metal detector which stayed a nice green and put the items back in my pocket. The next guy had some kind of a portable metal detector in his hand and waved me on by and I went through the doors into the theater. I was correct about their being a lot of people. Those in biker and rough type clothes seemed as dominant as professional suits and expensive dresses, with differing groups off in packs to themselves.

One lone man dressed in a t shirt and jeans was standing near the door, smiling as he extended a hand and said in a faint New York accent. "Hey! Looking good! Have you noticed it yet?"

The question alone took me by surprise, let alone the man's exuberance. Smiling, I responded, "Noticed what?"

He started laughing softly, "Your memory? Or were you always good at remembering things? I tell ya, it's downright killing me!" he exclaimed, rather animated.

I smiled, thinking I was better at remembering things when he went on, "Read a book lately? What's the second paragraph on the fifth page? Think about it," he said his smile growing wider. "We all have perfect memory. Every thing you read, every number you write, you can remember," he said, and I thought about the road signs on the way here, remembering the first, then the next and the progression all the way here. "If you have trouble finding your way around the city, take some time to read a map of the city. You're brain will remember every street, side street, and once you start riding around, every alleyway, manhole cover, and business will be etched into your brain. We could be cab drivers in London once we learn the fastest routes!"

"Never been to out of California, honestly," I told him, thinking him quite odd. "I've also not the time lately to read."

"I read all the time," he said, leading me deeper into the crowd. "I'm cursed to be a speed reader with a love of books who can remember every last word he's ever read! Two years, that's how long it took me to read every book the library had. That's one thousand six hundred and seventy four books. Decided to make it an even one thousand seven hundred and read their encyclopedias. I run a book store now, in Pasadena. I still read every night, and the bloody Network bugs me constantly for information. If I wasn't insane before, I bloody am now! I SAID the Nile is four thousand two hundred fifty eight miles long! Yes! I know it's almost a mile of miles! Geez, people read!"

Malkavian, I thought, once he mentioned the insanity. At least he was somewhat sane, like Therese, though I was going to have to remember the eidetic memory. Really useful. It was then that I spotted Damsel among a knot of bikers, the Toreador was dressed in leather pants with a white tank top and knee high boots with three inch heels. I smiled at seeing her, though she didn't notice me. I drifted over to her as the bookstore owner started talking to another man dressed in what I would almost describe as an ermine robe and matching stove top hat.

"Hey Damsel," I said, getting close enough to see her. She turned and smiled at me, but it was the man beside her that spoke first.

"Hey newb," he said, grinning at me as he extended his hand. "I'm Burris. Nice to see some new blood in the area. You ride?"

"Sure do," I said, shaking hands with the rough looking kindred. "Picked up my Harley from a hunter who didn't know about the fuel cut-off."

"Sweet," he drawled, giving me a one-armed bear hug and pointing me towards the others. "Not bad for a Lasombra!" he roared to his buddies who all cheered. All they need were a bunch of long neck beers to complete the image of celebrating bikers.

"Hey," she said, hands in her pockets as she drifted closer. "They came for Nines at sunrise. Nearly tore the Round apart, but he was long gone. If it weren't for you, he'd be onstage tonight."

"Take care of him, Damsel," I told her and gave her a hug.

"Yeah, Damsel filled us in," one of the others bikers said. "You warned him that Lacroix was about to frame him for killing a primogen. You did good kid, we got him out and he's as safe as anyone can be in this town. Even the Nossies can't find him which is definite trick. She also told us that you were to be left alone, you're just the innocent patsy to try and make us swap leaders again."

"Is there anyone else who could?" I asked them, hoping Nines wasn't their only voice.

"No," Damsel said, as she eyed some of the suits across the room. "Nines is probably the last man we all respect, and that's because he's been in the shit trenches since before most of us even got turned. One of the last Old Guard still fighting."

"What happened to the rest? I believe he said something about they switched sides..." I said but Burris cut me off. Seemed to be his thing.

"Thank that bitch Michele for that one," Burris spat. "Got several good men killed when she betrayed us to the Cammies."

"She had reasons," Damsel said, eyeing the bigger men around her. They all bowed up, getting ready for a fight, but she stared them down, making each one back off.

"Political reasons?" I asked and Damsel nodded, letting her shoulders relax. The rest of the group went to talking among themselves, leaving me and Damsel out of it. I had the feeling they were all Brujah, and me and Damsel just didn't quite mesh with them, but the little Toreador seemed to have the grit to make them back off. Typical bullies.

"Ever hear of a Miss Velour?" I asked her, desperate to have something to talk about, and needing to ask about her anyway.

"VV? Yeah, I know her. She's a Toreador and runs Vesuvius in Hollywood. She's an Anarch, but runs with Isaac. Not really the same as the rest of us. Hate to say it, but there's almost two breeds of us. You got Isaac's bunch, which is more like Camarilla lite, then there's us. We're free spirits and don't trust people to govern us," she said, then looked at me. "How did you hear about VV anyway? She like never leaves her club, and never drink from her girls. She will ban you for that."

"I got a new ghoul, runs Four-Play in Santa Monica where I have another ghoul working," I told her and she shot me a serious look.

"Really? Didn't think you'd tolerate one of those places. You know how they operate?" she said with a grimace on her face.

"Um," I said, thinking about it. "Not really, no. I know the girls make money by enticing guys into giving them money, but I don't guess I know where the club gets theirs. He says he makes a lot of money at it, but I didn't see to ask him how they do it."

"They charge for the stage. Place like that probably charges several grand each night or half the girls tips," she said, crossing her arms as she looked at me.

"So?"

"A girl can typically make only a grand or two a night, unless they have rather lax policies on touching and intimacy. They charge more for that, which is good for the girl if she's interested. I heard some places might force girls into it, but that depends on the place. Honestly, I wouldn't touch a strip club with a ten foot pole."

"That bad?" I asked, puzzled by her response.

"You want to know what they do to girls who don't have the money? They don't take an IOU."

"The leather couch with all the scratches..." I said, remembering seeing it in Duke's office. I figured he was using the couch for 'auditions' and punishment, Angel's own testimony letting me know that for a fact. But I didn't think it was the bad. Apparently I was wrong.

"Whether they like it or not," she said, staring me down with that same hard stare. "So, what did you do? Tell him to take an IOU or get rid of the girls who can't make that kind of money? Maybe send them to your home to be a snack?" she snarked at me, easing off as she saw the fear come across my face.

"I..." I said, trying to think. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was condoning this? Where was my empathy, my compassion? My sister went through that twice, dying the second time. Hell, even I went through it. And I was condoning it? What kind of monster was I becoming?

Damsel gave me a hug, holding me in her arms as I thought about what I was doing. "It's the beast, sweetie. You have to fight for your humanity. Weighing every decision against what it will cost your soul. You have to have compassion, love, and start helping people or the next piece you lose might be the part that keeps you from killing people."

I felt something on my cheek as I returned the hug. I brought a hand up to find a tear of blood running down my cheek. I resolved to stop back by the club and tell Duke that he wasn't to molest any more girls, and use my status as his domitor to force him not too. Damsel gave me a little smile, and I thought about the little scene between me and Angel and how good it felt. One good thing about our improved memories was I remembered Damsel asking me for a ride. And it wasn't like I had anything else to do tonight, though I did want to go talk to Venus.

"How about a ride after the Trial?" I asked, trying to redirect our conversation into something more tolerable.

"Sure," she said, leading me over to sit with the bikers as Jean and several deputies drug a young man to the center of the stage. It seemed the Trial was about to start. I sat beside her, surrounded by bikers, though I didn't see Jack anywhere near us. The Prince walked out, his seven foot tall Sheriff right behind him with that huge sword in it's scabbard on his back. When everyone was in place, Jean leaned over and pulled the stake from his chest, and the kindred came alive.

"Quiet, please," the Prince said, holding his hands up to quiet everyone. The weight of the moment seemed to fall on everyone and the voices fell away. When it was quiet, his hands fell to his sides. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We are here tonight to deal with a break in the Traditions. Specifically, a break of our first and highest tradition, the masquerade, by Jose Garcia, a member of clan Brujah. He revealed our presence and nature to several kine."

"I lost control!" Jose said from where he was kneeling. "Nearly got burned by a carburetor backfire and I couldn't control myself." I winced at that, remembering the one time my granpappie had to pull his shirt off to stuff in the carb because it was burning. It ruined the shirt, forcing him to go without in the sun, which I thought odd. Course, I was only six at the time.

"Mister Garcia," Lacroix said, turning to face him. "You are responsible for your actions. Do you deny this?"

"No, but you're going to kill me for something that wasn't my fault!"

"Do you deny killing several kine and drinking from one in the full presence of a kine whom you did not kill? Thereby revealing our presence while she called 911 for help?" the prince asked, his voice raising as he addressed the doomed kindred.

"I didn't know about her!" he yelled back. "When I came to I was just dropping the dead girl to the pavement. I didn't even see the kine leave! I thought I had killed everyone and that was the end of it until your deputies ripped through my door and burned my shop down!"

It was making me uncomfortable, listening to him defend himself from something the beast had done. I could feel mine shift under my skin, probably reacting to the tension in the air and I stifled it as best I could. If Nines were here, he'd probably make a case out of it. Cry and yell about how we all lost control. Even I had, but that was due to a ghost freaking me out, but it did leave me with questions.

"Excuse me," I said, standing to make it known who was addressing the gathering. "It might be because I'm so new and without a teacher, but who hasn't lost control of their beast?"

The question alone set the theater to talking a low hum, as everyone seemed to address the issue with their neighbors. Even the bikers around me talked about losing control and ripping their beloved rides to shreds because of their loss of control.

"Miss Flores," the prince said, addressing me. "You are indeed correct that most of us have lost control, but usually we correct our mistakes. Mister Garcia did not."

"Sounds like he didn't know their was a mistake to be corrected. Did anyone call him? Let him know their was a kine he missed? Or did you just assume he meant to reveal our nature to the young girl?"

"And what would you have me do? Condone his actions? Allow countless breaches of the masquerade because he didn't know?" the prince said, and I could feel his anger like a wave over me. Presence, I thought, realizing his clan must have it too. Well, if we could use our powers like that, maybe he needed a taste of his own medicine. I sent as much of my anger and disappointment back out as I could, and the whole room gasped, with the Sheriff and deputies backing away. It was only the prince who stood still, but even his features softened as his wave was swallowed under mine.

'Thanks for the help, Lasombra,' I thought as the prince started to motion for the crowd to calm down. "First, no, I don't condone his actions. But, he has paid a price," I said, keeping people looking at me as I seemed to take control of the situation. 'Don't let me mess this up.' I thought, then addressed Jose. "You say you lost your place? That the deputies burned it down?"

"Yeah," he said, addressing me and looking at me as if I were his last salvation. Sad thing was it was probably true. "Some idiot knocked over a can of gas where I was working on a car. It's what I do, I was a mechanic. I had already run out the front, thinking the Sabbat was raiding me and when I looked back, just before they staked me, I saw the flames rise in the back. I hope Jacqueline got out."

"Mijo!" a woman yelled from the corner of the stage. I could see a young woman tied up, being held by a man in a suit.

"Don't hurt her!" he said, struggling against the men holding her.

"Well, he hasn't lost his compassion," I said, as the prince raised his hands again.

"People, listen!" he yelled, and the crowd quieted down again. "Miss Flores, what would you do in this situation?"

"First, establish that the person did it either by accident or design. In this case, it seems to be by accident. Second, call him on it in a manner that is consistent with the manners of law enforcement. That means you stop by his place and ask him nicely. Your deputies seem to have failed on that one; breaking the door down and making him think he was under a Sabbat raid. I'd say there's a little bit of fault on both sides.

"As for punishment? Well, you did take his business away from him. Since this was an accident, I say he's been given his punishment if this is his only offense. Given that death seems to be the only punishment you like to dole out, I'd say so."

"These are serious times, Miss Flores," the Prince said, his voice low and even, and if it weren't for the great acoustics of the theater, probably wouldn't have heard him at all. "They call for serious punishments."

"Losing everything you have isn't serious enough?" Damsel said, standing by me. "It's all we have some nights. It took me years to get the Last Round." More people began to rise, and finally the prince raised his arms to quiet the theater down again.

"Alright, settle down everyone. Miss Flores raises a somewhat valid point," and the Anarchs around me cheered. "This situation may not have been handled in the best interests of all concerned. But a breach of the masquerade has occurred, serious enough that it endangered our secrecy and had to be handled by a deputy. Thereby your sentence is exile," the prince said, turning to face the condemned man, "for a hundred years. Should you return before that hundred years is over, I will call a blood hunt on you, and this time Mister Garcia, I will have your head. Your exile starts at midnight, which is in a few hours. I suggest you hurry."

"Thank you," he said, as he was released. Jacqueline was also released and together they jumped off the stage, running for the exit. No one stopped him, and soon we were all looking at the prince.

"Well, that concludes tonight's meeting. I hope this serves as a lesson that I do hear what the kindred of this city has to say. My only goal, is to ensure our well being. You are dismissed," he said, turning to leave. Everyone started to rise and leave, and I followed the bikers out as the suits across from us waited for the rougher types to leave.

"Want to ride with the pack?" Burris said as we swarmed around the bikes. Damsel gave me a slight nod of her head as I stepped beside my Harley.

"Sure, we'll probably break off somewhere," I told him as I mounted my Harley and lifted the stand with my boot like a professional rider. Damsel got on behind me, settling her feet into the passenger rests and snuggled up real close behind me.

"Heading off to your own fun, huh?" one of the riders joked. I would have responded, but he kicked his engine to life, the roar drowning out any response I could give. The other riders kicked their bikes to life too, and I started my own, getting ready to back it out as everyone on my right pulled forward in a hard turn and hit the street.

"Just roll with it," Damsel yelled in my ear over the din, and kicking it into first pulled out with the rest of the riders, getting a cheer from the pack. Apparently that was the first step in acceptance, and the pack roared up onto the interstate going at least forty strong. I looked around, seeing the varying riders and their rides and was in awe at the sheer presence these people pulled off with their sight. To look at them, you'd think this was another biker gang with a love for older bikes, but knowing the truth of their age, made you realize each one still reveled in the glory of their biker years.

We headed north, into the hills and left the interstate Santa Clarita, heading out the road to Palmdale. "Take a left up here," Damsel said in my ear. I slowed, then banked over and took the turn a bit faster than I probably should have. I could hear the whooping of the pack as we separated, and I smiled at the thought that maybe somebody out there actually liked me. Damsel continued to point out turns until we were well out of civilization and out in the scrub brush on a dirt road. When we hit the edge of a hill, she told me to park it.

"Beautiful spot," I said, after I killed it and let the sound die away.

"Used to come up here when I first came to town," she said, hopping off and stretching her legs. "Course, back then it took me longer. All I had to ride was a scooter. Damn thing couldn't do twenty."

"Guess that's the benefit of having a proper bike," I said, putting the kickstand down before I got off.

"Yeah, and the guys loved you. Didn't hurt that you got Jose off, though he'll have to head for San Diego or San Francisco and set up shop there. At least he's alive if we need him."

"Small favors," I said, putting an arm around Damsel's shoulders. I wasn't sure how to push it where I wanted to go so I let Damsel steer things for a bit. "Couldn't let Nines hear I let an Anarch burn when he might've been able to stand up to Lacroix."

"I'm starting to think if you might be itching for his job," Damsel said, snuggling closer to me.

"Lacroix?" I gasped, then blew a raspberry at the thought. "Town would burn if I did that. No way I could keep the Camarilla together."

"Fuck Lacroix," Damsel said. "I meant replacing Nines. God, Eliza, do you even know how fucked we are right now? We lose Nines, I might as well catch a tan. He is ALL that is left of the old guard Anarchs. All. We lose him, we lose our Anarch soul, and the Free State is over."

I hugged her close to me. "Some things are worth fighting for, Damsel," I said, and she wrapped her arms around me. "I can't always say I agree with the way things were done, but I know Lacroix's type. He'll kill every person in his way to complete domination, and that means I just put my head on the chopping block along with every other Anarch in town."

"It has benefits," Damsel said, nuzzling my ear. I nuzzled next to her ear, feeling my hunger grow. I couldn't understand it. I wasn't really that hungry, but I could feel the blood in Damsel's veins. I kissed her neck, and I could feel the want, the need to bite so bad it was painful. I licked the spot right over her artery, eliciting a soft moan from her, and felt my fangs slip out.

"Damsel," I whispered, as she lowered a hand and began to fondle my ass while her other wrapped around my neck and held me close. I pulled her hair off her neck, and taking one more lick, sank my teeth into her neck, her blood feeling like electric milk as I drank her in. Damsel moaned, bucking against me once as I gripped her tighter. It felt so right throughout my body, as I took gulp after gulp of her blood.

I had one moment of clarity that what I was doing was wrong and pulled my fangs from her neck. Damsel was silent, leaning against me when I realized I was supporting her weight. In panic, I let go and she dropped to the ground, the angle of her legs and arms telling me she was a lifeless husk.

"Fuck."


	26. Chapter 26 -Choices Part 1

Chapter 26 – Choices (Part 1)

October 1, 2004 = Friday

Looking down at Damsel's lifeless body, I was ready to skip panic and have a meltdown, but for some reason, I knew she wasn't dead. What Gary said about feeding on rats sprang to mind, and I hoped Damsel would forgive the social faux pas if I used it to save her life as I looked around the hill top for any signs of animal life.

A hare several hundred feet away caught my eye in the darkness. There was no way I could catch the fleet footed animal without using my shadows, so I bolted straight through the shadow, coming out on top of the fleet footed animal just as he raised on his hind legs to check for danger. I dove for it, snagging it by the scruff of the neck as it kicked and pawed at my wrist.

I ran back to Damsel, who hadn't moved from where she'd fallen. I knelt beside her, using my free hand to open her mouth, her fangs barely visible behind her bluish lips. I held the rabbit's paws with both hands, using my own fangs to rip out the animal's throat and let the blood flow into Damsel's mouth, hoping the fresh blood would wake her up.

It was only after the last drop entered her mouth that Damsel swallowed, and began straightening her limbs. "What the hell," she yelled, rubbing at her neck. "What the blue fuck made you bite me?"

"Damsel, I'm so sorry," I said, helping her to her feet. "I don't know why I did that, it just called to me."

"So, quack like a duck," she said, her serious face melting into a smirk.

"Are you alright?" I asked, wondering if she might have some sort of aphasia and thereby have some of her words mixed up.

"No, I'm okay," she said, frowning as she dusted herself off. "But, still, why the hell did you bite me? Trying to diablerize me or something?"

"No, I," I said, hanging my head and turning away from her. "Is it that way every time I get near a neck?"

"Shouldn't be," Damsel said, putting her arms around me. "It's probably one of the problems you've been having with your beast."

"Guess I really could use a teacher," I told her, letting her pull me in close even though I wasn't facing her. I nearly killed her, and the memory of the first time I had nearly killed someone was still etched into my brain. Tom Cullen was many things, but mean wasn't one of them and I had put him in the hospital for nothing more than startling me. Guess, I was destined to be the monster.

"All you had to do was ask," she said, kissing my cheek. "Come on, sit over here with me," she said, leading me to the edge of the hill. "First off, as far as you've come, I get the idea you know the basics by now. Keep yourself fed, don't feed from just any schmuck, and spit out anything with a sour taste. The sour taste is actually your body telling you its bad blood."

"Good to know," I said, as we sat and looked over the valley. "What about ghouls? I know how to make one, but I guess no one really said anything about laws for them."

"For the most part, there aren't any laws but one for non kindred," she said, pulling her knees up to rest her chin on her arms. "The masquerade. And since you made them, you're responsible for them. Problem is, they tend to be rather loose lipped when it comes time for them to feed, even going into frenzy if they get hungry enough."

"Frenzy? They lose control?"

"Yeah, it can be bad then," she said, then turned her head to look at me. "Take Patty for example. Her master was a friend of mine, but now that he's dead, she's going out of her mind looking for him."

"What will happen to her?"

"She's got three options. One, her best, is to accept another kindred as her master, but the average ghoul is so hopelessly addicted to their master though, there's no saving them. You could, maybe mind you, save them if you locked them up in a cell. Though, there'd have to be a helluva reason to do it.

"But it is possible. Would the Camarilla be willing to do that?" I asked, already figuring the answer was no when she laughed.

"You saw the way they wanted to kill Jose. Just lop his head off for a backfire! One hellacious argument, though. 'He who is without sin, cast the first stone?' Even Lacroix had to admit his faults at that!" she said laughing. "And it's not like he can lie because we Toreador would have caught his lie."

"So, what would the Anarchs do?" I asked, and she sobered.

"Nothing, most likely," she admitted, settling her head back onto her knees. "Usually we don't mess in other peoples affairs, and Isaac's bunch would probably see her as a threat and shoot her."

"The Anarchs aren't coming off as all roses, here," I told her.

She sighed, looking out over the valley. "No, but we wouldn't have been after Jose's head, either. Lacroix wants to kill everyone who doesn't support him, we leave people alone to fuck things up, and Isaac's somewhere in between. Like Patty's other two options, die or learn to live without him. The last is the best. She's still young and can go on and live her life. Not like Michele's ghoul Remy. She'd die now if she wasn't drinking from a kindred's wrist."

"Why? What's wrong."

"First off, she's like a hundred and fifty. Michele made her a ghoul when she still lived in Paris, back around the mid 1800's. It was because of her Michele survived the fall of France in World War Two, leaving on foot and trekking across country at night, hiding in a makeshift grave by day."

"You know a lot about Michele," I said, looking at her.

"She's my grandsire," Damsel explained. "She came out here about the time the Anarch Free State got started, but like Nines said, there's not that many of us left. Those bikers we came up here with? That's it. That's all that's left of the Free Anarchs."

"Why did she switch sides?" I asked, wanting to know the reason someone would join the Camarilla.

"She's trying to shut down the Camarilla from inside," she admitted. "That stays between us, okay? Lacroix thinks she's loyal, and if he even gets wind she's against him..."

"He'll move against her," I said and Damsel nodded. "That means we need more people in his inner circle who he thinks are loyal, or can at least be bought."

"And you go and make that big move tonight, and probably got Lacroix working against you," Damsel said, chuckling softly to herself.

"Like he needed an excuse. From what I gather, Ventrue and Lasombra hate each other with a passion reserved for ex-husbands," I said, and Damsel laughed at that one.

"Yeah, well, you are one against their many. When all the Camarilla showed up, it was like someone called a Ventrue clan meeting in town. Lots of people with no claim or stake in LA just showed up and stayed. They got the Camarilla rolling, caught us with our pants down just after our cease-fire with the Kue-Jin. We just don't have the numbers to fight back, and we can't make more unless we go to Hollywood. There's no guarantee that the newbies will choose the Anarch way, anyway."

"Rock and a hard place?"

"More like choosing your own style of execution. Slow, steady and painless, or quick and painful. I just don't know how long Isaac can hold out," she said, letting that sink in.

"So, the guys we rode up with are about the only ones Nines can call on to actively fight?"

"They make a great first wave, but after that we wouldn't have anything to back it up with. Every kindred clan has strengths and weaknesses. Brujah would be your shock troops, riding in and making chaos wherever they go. But once the shock wears off..."

"Why not ghouls?"

"Ghouls couldn't stand against a kindred," she said. "Tried and done. They're just too weak."

"What about guns. Military style guns."

"Won't work on anyone who's good with Celerity. I'm not that good with it, I prefer my Presence and Auspex abilities, but even I can see the vapor trails the bullets leave behind. Nines can actually dodge the bullets IF he know's he's being shot at," stressing the word if. "All you see is him blurring, and then when the bullets stop..."

"He can attack. So, best way of attacking is something that they can't dodge. What about using the Brujah to keep their speedsters busy while the ghouls use machine guns to suppress their counterattack," sounding like a military general arranging an attack on a vastly superior enemy. "Or use flamethrowers."

"And we bug out just as bad as they do," she pointed out as she stretched out on the hillside to look at the stars.

I stretched out beside her, thinking it over. The only time we were vulnerable was when we were asleep, but there ghouls would be watching over them. A thought hit me, "Who watches over you when you sleep?"

"Me? No one," she said. "Never had a ghoul because I couldn't rip someone from their life just to serve me."

"How many other kindred feel the same way?"

"Couldn't say," she said dismissively. "What's on your brain?"

"If you knew where they slept, I mean just the house or building not the actual room, you could burn the house down around their ears during the day..."

"Incinerating their ass while they slept," she said, rolling over to face me. "Risky, what if the fire didn't catch them? Or they slept in a fire proof coffin?"

"You sleep in a coffin?" I interjected, finding the idea odd but logical. We did have problems with light and being caught by people who didn't know we were kindred.

"I hear some do," she said defensively. "I prefer satin sheets myself."

"Well, when I get a bed I'm going silk," I told her, and she laughed.

"What do you sleep in now? Or under?"

"The shower stall," I said, grimacing as she laughed louder. "It's like the only place in that tiny apartment that is protected from sunlight."

Damsel nodded, looking at the stars. "So, you'd use the ghouls to attack them while they slept? That could work. Even the Tremere wouldn't be able to defend against that, I think. It would thin their ranks, and if it were done in broad daylight, it'd be hard to pin on any one kindred. That's brutal."

"War is hell," I said, quoting an old war movie. "The Anarchs have two options on this one, attack with everything they can, or find another place to call home."

"What, some small town in No-where-ville?," she said, appalled. "There's a reason we favor the big cities, sweetie."

"Well, they're ideas you can pass on to Nines. Don't tell me where he is, though, I'm going to try to get into the prince's good graces. See if there's anything I can pull apart and mess up his works as best I can."

"Good, we could use more people on the inside. If you're going to go that route though, we need to separate. Lacroix won't think you're in tight if you're still chummy with us Anarchs."

"If that's the case, how about a little fight?" I said with a smirk on my face.

"Lover's quarrel? Bit old fashioned even in my day."

"Well, I am supposed to be straight, and we ride off together..." I said, leading her to the inevitable conclusion.

"And I made a move on you, which you didn't like and we're through." she said, nodding in approval as she rolled back to stare at the stars. "Looks good, the rest depends on the strength of our performance."

"Just react to what I do, and the rest should be automatic," I said, getting up. I held a hand out to Damsel. She took it, and I helped her to her feet and we headed back to my motorcycle. "Just remember, it's an act, okay?"

-o-0-o-

The entire way back to the Last Round consisted of me riding as fast as I could through the cities streets, before finally turning the last street on which the bar was located. I made sure to never let the bike get under fifty the entire way back, and more than several times took a curve so sharp and fast that I scraped my feet rests against the pavement. Damsel must have thought I was nuts because she wrapped her arms around my middle and refused to let go. At least I could be glad I didn't need air anymore.

In front of the Round, I locked the front brakes up and turned the bike sharply to the side, before using my strength to break her hold on my middle and throw her off. Damsel was taken by surprise as she went rolling down the street. I turned the bike around to face her, as Damsel got to her knees.

"Listen, you little bitch!" I yelled for the benefit of anyone listening. "I'm not going to be you're little whore! So you keep your hands to yourself, and leave me the fuck alone."

Damsel spit at me, and I kicked it into first gear and popped the clutch to make the tire roll smoke as I peeled out. Damsel went wide eyed at my show of hostility, and I raised a boot and kicked her right in the face as I passed her, knocking the little Toreador down on the pavement as I passed. I didn't look back as I turned the corner, and I hoped she understood that it was all in the name of getting rid of Lacroix.

I headed for the tower, needing to talk with Walsh about buying that house. The area around the tower was empty as always as I parked my bike. I went in, finding the back in five minutes sign out so I went straight for the elevator and up. When the doors opened, I spotted Walsh.

"She did what?" Walsh said, walking through the upstairs lobby, talking on his cell phone. He looked at me as he listened to his phone, face slack in surprise. "Alright, get me a report about it on my desk as quick as you can. I need to go," he said, motioning me on to his office. "Goodbye," he said and ended the call. "Evening, Miss Flores. How can I help you, tonight?"

"Well, my ghouls did the house shopping I asked them too, and I need to see about buying some Malibu real estate."

"Ah, that would be the Pryce estate," he said, moving to a filing cabinet as I sat down. "Wonderful bargain, picked it up for a fraction of the price it's truly worth."

"Making your money in real estate?" I asked and he nodded.

"Real estate, rentals, car sales," he said as he rifled through the files. "All rather lucrative for a man who's tied to his office at all hours of the night."

"I don't guess you have the luxury of moving about anymore," I agreed, as he found the file he was looking for and put it on his desk. "But I would have thought you had some time to yourself, if only to hunt."

He smiled as he sat down, pulling his pen and began to fill in the blanks on a form. "As a Ventrue, I don't have the luxury of having multiple blood donors to drink from. In fact, there's only four people I know of that meet my strict criteria."

"Clan curse?" I asked, and he nodded.

"How much did you want to put on the down payment?" he asked, changing the topic.

"Let's make it four million," I said, and he wrote it down as he filed the appropriate paperwork.

"From penniless to millionaire in a week, to buying premium beach front property when you were living off the graces of your friend," he said, impressed by the results I was churning out. He pulled out a calculator and started to figure out the rates, then made a small grunt. "The monthly payments on a ten year note come out to two hundred thirty-eight thousand and five hundred dollars a month."

I whistled at the number. It was enough to make me rethink buying the place, but I forced myself to keep calm. "Sounds good," I said and he turned some paperwork around to me.

"Just sign on the line with your alias, Miss Flores, and I'll get you a key to the front door."

I couldn't help but smile as I signed the paperwork and he fished out a key from the file. "This should unlock every door in the house. It has some furniture and is free as part of the estate. It was bought and paid for before the money ran out."

"That should do it," I said, pocketing my new key as I stood. "Take care," I said, as I walked out the door. I took the elevator down, and was soon back on my Harley. I headed for Santa Monica to Four-Play, deciding to take care of Duke and his way of disciplining the girls.

The club looked deserted when I got there, so I parked my bike out front and walked down the alleyway to the side door. It wasn't locked, so I went on in, finding a couple of guys standing outside his office door while some hard rock music blared over the speakers to drown out any sounds coming from the office.

"Guys," I said as they blocked the door.

"He's with a girl," one of them said as I stared him down.

"Yeah, well, he's going to see me, and he's going to see me right now," I said, letting my presence flow a bit to unsettle them. They started to get jumpy, looking at each other and then back to me. Finally they moved away from the door and let me pass, and I went inside.

A girl lay on the couch, dressed in only her skin, while Duke was positioned over her. I could hear her moan and whimper, and enraged, I marched across the room and yanked Duke off the girl as tears rolled down her cheeks and threw him back to his desk.

"What the fuck!" he yelled as he picked himself off the floor. The girl curled up in a ball on the couch to cry, and I kept myself between them to protect her.

"If I knew what kind of horror show you ran out of this office," I yelled at him, "I wouldn't have made a deal with you!"

"What are you doing here?" Duke asked me as he straightened his cloths. I advanced on my new ghoul and forced him back against the wall.

"First, get out of here," I told the girl, who was just straightening herself up to sit on the couch. "Get dressed and go home."

The girl promptly pulled a one piece sun dress up before grabbing her other clothing items up and darter out the door, tears still streaming down her face. The guys at the door look puzzled, but pulled the door closed to leave me alone with my ghoul. Duke scowled at seeing her leave, but only muttered, "Well, there goes the fun I was going to have tonight."

"Fun? Listen hotshot, I just found out how these places operate and you're lucky I'm not ripping your spine out and beating you with it," I snapped back, letting my anger flow out. Duke winced, and I got up in his face. He started to backpedal, finally being forced back onto his chair as I cornered him. "You want to keep living, you're going to start treating these girls with some respect!"

"Respect?" he croaked? "Respect doesn't make money."

"Then you better find a way to make money," I breathed, pressing close. "Because if I find out you so much as forced one of these girls back onto this couch," I said, straddling his lap and getting an inch from his face, "I will come back and make you cut it off yourself. Got it?"

He nodded, and I got off of him, leaving him while he calmed himself. The two guys didn't say anything as I left and headed back to the apartment. A cheap Honda sat at the end of the alley when I got there, and a look over to the light post revealed Sharron wasn't in sight.

I briefly thought about interrupting her, but decided that if the guy was jumpy enough he might do something stupid like pull a knife. I wasn't worried so much for myself, but that Sharron would get hurt or killed. So, rather than stand under the light and get funny looks from guys as they passed, I went upstairs to the apartment. Opening the door, I found Brian leaned up against the desk with his eyes closed. Heather and Constance lay in the bed, cuddled under the blanket. Not a light burned in the entire place, so I lit the candle with the lighter from my pocket.

"Is it morning already?" Brian said, opening his eyes and stretching.

"About five," I told him, and began to take stock of the small room, noting for the first time that there wasn't anything left but the candle and bedspread. "You three must have been waiting for me to get back."

"Well, didn't figure you'd want to waste anytime, so we packed everything and was waiting," he said, rising to stand by the desk. Heather stretched to let me know she was awake, probably just lightly dozing while she waited. She was at least fully dressed in jeans and a tank top.

"How is Constance doing?" I asked them, and we all looked at the sleeping youth as she slept in her pajamas.

"Good so far, she came right around this time," Heather said, as she folded the blanket. "Did you get it?"

"Yeah," I said, fishing the key out of my pocket and holding it up. Heather smiled and even Brian had a big grin on his face. "I assume the Honda at the end of the alley was yours?"

"Yeah," she said as she finished folding the blanket and set it on the desk. "It's about all I have left from my parents."

"Constance, honey, it's time to get up," I said, shaking her shoulder.

"Go away," she mumbled, rolling towards the wall. I reached over and shook her shoulder again, this time she huddled herself into a ball as she whimpered. I sat beside her and began to rock her gently. "Constance, come on sweetie," I said, and shook her again. She came to, sleepily, sitting up beside me and rubbing at her eyes.

"Still dark out," she mumbled, leaning against me.

"Well, I got it," I told her, and she looked up at me and smiled.

"Sweet," she said and laid her head on my shoulder. I put an arm under her and helped her to her feet, while Heather finished stripping the bed and folded the sheets.

"We got a CD player, right?" I asked Brian, who nodded.

"Already loaded up," he said, as he began to go around the apartment to make sure we had everything, finally removing the blood bag from the fridge and handing it to me. I took it, and feeling a bit hungry, drank it on the spot.

With my hunger satisfied, I threw the empty bag in the trashcan and looked around the now empty apartment. "Let's get out of here," I said, leading the way with Constance leaning against me. I was never so happy to leave a home before, but this place was most definitely the pits.

Out in the alley, we headed to the car when I spotted Sharron walking back out of the alley with a john. Constance stared at my ghoul, as we both neared the street, and the John bolted for his parked car. Sharron grimaced at seeing me, but leaned up against the post without saying a word. I walked across the street and I swear the scowl on her face deepened with every step.

"What now?" she whined as I stepped onto the curb. I looked her over, taking in her now dilapidated appearance. Her mascara had run a bit from crying and she needed to touch up her makeup as it was smudged a bit. I looked down, where she rubbed at her leg and there was white stain. She looked pitiful, tired and ready to fall down if it weren't for the lamp post she was leaned against.

"Go home," I told her. "Tomorrow, head back to Four-Play and return to stripping."

"Want your money," she said, pulling a wad of bills from her purse.

"Just my hundred," I told her, as she quickly counted out the bills and handed them to me. "Duke's one of mine now. If he rapes one of the girls, report it to me or Brian. I'm not letting him run Four-Play like he used to," I said, turning to join Brian and Heather as they stood next to the car.

"What changed?" she called as I started across the street.

"I refuse to become the monster," I said as I mounted my bike, and hit the starter. I couldn't help but think of Lasombra lurking under my skin. I had to keep my ancestor from taking over, and delving deeper into my monstrous nature wasn't helping.

Damsel could attest to that.

=o=0=o=

I followed Heather's car out to Malibu while I rode my bike. It was a beautiful drive along the Pacific, with long rows of condos lining the beachfront. We were almost into Malibu before Heather made a sharp left turn into a driveway marked by a stone fence topped by what seemed to be old lamps. The steady burn was a dead giveaway that they were electric, but still, they lit the road driveway well enough to see by at night. The driveway curved and made a loop around a central water fountain that shot streams of water over the top tier.

The garage was four bays abreast, with a space just past it for visitors to park. Heather parked her car there and I pulled in behind her, shutting it down and taking in my new home. It was beautiful, made of blue stone with a large arch over the entryway. I pulled my new CD from the saddlebag, then went and unlocked the door. Stepping inside to find myself in the foyer, with a staircase on my left that led up to the second floor, which was open on both sides.

I walked past it, finding another staircase under it leading into the basement. On the right was the formal dining room, lit by crystal chandelier. The table under it was a large, single slab of wood, probably redwood judging by its cherry shine. In fact, as I looked around, all the wood I could see was cherry red. Continuing my straight line through the house found me in some sort of trophy room. It had a large fireplace that was currently unlit, but the potential for it to be one of those cozy gathering places to sit and act sophisticated.

"Figures if you asked about this, you might have wanted it for something," Brian said, bringing in the boom box and set it up on a table. I unwrapped my CD, and placed in the tray. It spun up, and the heavy bass pattern of 'Who Will Save Your Soul' started to play.

"People living their lives for you on TV, say they're better than you, you agree," I sang, practically dancing through the kitchen with its gleaming stainless steel counter tops and shiny appliances. There was a breakfast nook surrounded by large glass looking out over the ocean. Past that was a living room, which was larger than my dorm room in college at twenty feet square. A large TV sat against the wall, surrounded by shelves designed to hold VHS tapes in neat orderly rows. I looked at all the shelving, and decided the guy must have either wanted every movie ever made in his personal collection, or he planned to add some books to balance it out. There were a few couches in here, and Heather brought Constance in, laying the tired girl to bed on one of the couches before draping the cover over her.

Continuing my clockwise inspection, I went up the stairs to the second floor. I found the place was mostly open, with a bedroom at each corner. Though there were windows for the third story on the southern wall overlooking the ocean, there was no porch, so the view remained unsullied. Each bedroom had its own complete bathroom and walk-in closet.

With nothing else to view, and as the CD progressed on to the next song, I took the stairs down back into the foyer and continued to inspect my new home. I'd never thought I'd by a house before, let alone without inspecting it myself before I bought it, and couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the sheer size of the place. On the other side of the stairwell from the foyer was a private library. It was partially furnished, with a long row of shelving on one wall. Seriously, was this guy that big a nerd? Or did he just not know what he wanted so he built everything?

Across from the private library was the master suite. It was fully furnished, with a large four poster king sized bed that had curtains that could be pulled to give the sleeping couple some privacy, even if others were in the room. I checked the egg-colored sheets to find that they were satin. The room had its own balcony access, and I followed it out to find a large grassy yard.

I went down the stairs, finding a large hot tub nestled between the stairs just under the balcony. There was some patio furniture already there, several chaise loungers and a couple of tables, and I knew that Heather and Constance would be working their tans just as soon as they could. Feeling envious, I went in through the lower doors into the basement to find a green velvet pool table and a selection of pool cues on the wall. There was even a wet bar on the back wall.

"Just great," I breathed, as I turned right to find another bedroom. Shaking my head, I continued on, finding myself walking down a long wall before finding the stairs that led back up to the main floor. A painting on hinges was left open, revealing a hidden hallway by the staircase from the rest of the room, I followed it into a large bare room. It didn't have any windows, but it did have a bathroom.

"A safe room," I muttered, looking the area over again. No windows, designed to be hidden, and large enough to house several people comfortably for a long period of time. I went back to the painting, finding a set of steel doors that were designed to lock together to keep people out during an attack. I went back down the walls, tapping, and judging by the solidness of the walls, figured that there were probably several inches of steel hiding in there somewhere.

"Well, found my room," I said as I went back out into the game room. The place easily matched the trophy room in size, and under the kitchen was another large bare room. Thoughts of Heather and her clothes-making had me deciding that this would be her private studio, and I'd probably need to get her some mannequins in my size so she could model outfits for me without having to try them on all the time.

The far door left me speechless. It was the same twenty square feet as the living room, but this was designed to be a private theater. Several rows of theater chairs were already set into the floor. In the center, near the back was the entertainment center and projector setup. Most of what it was designed for was to play DVD's and VHS tapes, though I'm sure if it could play that then it could also be used as a TV, and thereby play cable. Smiling I left the room, traveling up the stairs to find Heather and Brian waiting for me.

"Do you like it?" Heather asked, looking a little apprehensive as Brian suddenly decided to take on astronomy and began gazing out the window.

"Loving it," I said, smiling back. "I was thinking we could use the large room by the game room for your fashion studio. It'll give you plenty of room to work on my outfits. Also, the safe room hidden under the painting is where I'll sleep."

"Are you sure? Why not one of the upstairs bedrooms," Heather asked me.

"Well, with my sun restriction, one stray gust of wind on the curtains and I'm fried," I said, and Heather nodded. "Besides, I need to stay out of sight during the day. That's what happened to Jean. She was found by her doctor and he freaked. Called the police and they took her to autopsy. She's lucky she wasn't burnt when they took her out of the house."

"Yeah," Heather said, sounding kind of sad. "I just figured you'd want the grandest room in the place, or at least an upstairs view of the ocean."

"I'm happy just being here," I told her. "Since there's only one bed in the whole place, today, you and Brian need to do a shopping trip with Constance. Go pick out beds and any remaining furniture that'll be needed."

"Also, we're going to need dishes, cooking supplies, food," Heather listed off as we drifted into the kitchen. "Do we need to get you anything in particular for your room?"

"A comfortable bed, silk sheets, wardrobe, dresser, maybe some mannequins," I said, leaning on the countertop.

"Simple or fancy?" Brian asked me, leaning up against the fridge.

"Fancy," I told them and Heather giggled. "We're living the high life now. That means we have an image to uphold. That means from now on, everyone needs to start dressing like middle class, not like we're all just recently escaped the projects."

"I did just escape the projects," Constance groused from where she lay.

"Suppose that goes with the million dollar house," Brian groused also, just as my favorite song on the CD began to play. The simple guitar rift had me feeling pretty happy, as I began to sing along.

" _I hear the clock, it's six A.M.  
I feel so far from where I've been  
I got my eggs, I got my pancakes too  
I got my maple syrup, everything but you._

 _I break the yolks and make a smiley face  
I kinda like it in my brand new place  
Wipe the spots up off the mirror  
Don't leave the keys in the door  
I never put wet towels on the floor anymore 'cause_

 _Dreams last so long  
Even after you're gone  
I know that you love me  
And soon you will see  
You were meant for me  
And I was meant for you."_

I couldn't help but think of Samantha while I sang the chorus and where we first met in college. The brunette had been a friend to me when I felt lost in the big ocean of life. We'd grown close over the years we spent together, but now the chorus hit me hard thinking of her as an ex-friend. I'd always remember her fondly, as a true friend if nothing else.

 _"I called my momma, she was out for a walk  
Consoled a cup of coffee but it didn't wanna talk  
So I picked up the paper, it was more bad news  
More hearts being broken or people being used."_

I couldn't finish the song as the part about my mother reminded me she was dead. Killed by the same man who had killed my father, my sister, and me then ruined my life by turning me into a vampire. I felt something wet on my cheek, finding it was another tear of blood. I had nothing to remember my family by. No photos, none of my heirlooms, it was all in boxes at Samantha's.

Without warning I turned from my confused ghouls and stepped into the shadows, thinking of the one place I wasn't supposed to go. Samantha usually ran in the early mornings, during the pre-dawn hour while it was cool and the streets were mostly empty. Hopefully I'd be lucky and all I'd have to do was just slip into her apartment and back out again without her knowing I was there.

I did seem to be luckier than usual. Maybe I could get lucky one more time and abscond with my property before Samantha found out I was there.

And maybe pigs will grow wings and fly.


	27. Chapter 27 - Choices Part 2

Chapter 27 – Choices (Part 2)

October 1, 2004 = Friday

~Damsel~

I sat at the bar of the Round, while one of my bartenders popped my nose back in place with a spoon. Most everyone left was upstairs repairing the damage the sheriff's deputies had done when they stormed the place looking for Nines. Most of it was superficial, thankfully, but I was going to be out several grand on finding new tables and chairs and a few pieces of paneling. The bathrooms up there could go without for the most part, not that most of my clientele needed to use them anyway. Mostly just the ghouls who came in for a drink, provided they could find the blessed things during their drunk.

"This might hurt a bit," Steve said as he pushed hard and my nose crunched back into place with a yell. If those damn fool Cammies didn't believe that, then she'd never be trusted. I was just glad that we gave such a good performance, even if it did ruin my white tank top with my own blood.

"Geezus, Steve," I said, wincing as my eyes watered. "I know people think I'm the toughest bitch in town, but my nose is tender."

"Relax, Damsel," he said as he threw the spoon into the wash basin. "If you don't get it set right, it'll heal wrong and your pretty face will be ruined. And I don't want Michele breaking my hands because I let your pretty face get ruined."

I smirked at that. "Least I can expect you to have my back. Think you can keep them working upstairs? I need to see Michele for a loan."

"Them?" he said, looking up as if he could look through the floorboards. "They're pushovers. Not a backbone in the entire lot. All talk and no show."

If only he knew, I thought as I slipped off the bar-stool and went into my office, locking the door behind me. Within the privacy of my office, I stripped off my clothes, including my underwear and socks to get dressed in fancier clothes. Not that I needed to, but Michele loved her refinement and if I showed up looking like a hobo I would get treated like one.

We Anarchs couldn't afford anymore gaps in our defense. Michele's defection hadn't gone the way it was intended, she was supposed to just walk away from it all and take up with the Camarilla as a primogen, which was her right as the oldest and most powerful of our clan. Even Isaac didn't have the same power base as she did. But where Isaac built his empire solely in the movie industry, Michele built hers on the arts and music industry, with rare strays into Sci-Fi and fantasy movies that Isaac thought tasteless and without merit. Money didn't buy all that much in kindred circles, it was the pull that mattered, and no one had pull like some of those music stars. To many people, they were more out there since they toured the country and performed for people live. Movie stars were rarely seen in public outside of their own select circles.

Thinking of Michele's defection had me thinking of Otto. He was the one who had led the charge to attack Michele and had paid dearly for it. Michele had wanted to keep her status as a double agent secret, and that led to misunderstandings, and Otto paid for it with his life. Michele's ghouls opened fire on him and his boys, and though Otto was fast enough to jump from his bike, he wasn't enough to stop Michele from pouncing him with her sword and cutting him to ribbons. The others had frenzied, attacking randomly and making themselves easy fodder for her blade and celerity.

In the end, the ruse had worked in her favor, and she had been taken in wholeheartedly by the Cammies after that. She even had Cammie witnesses that Otto had attacked first, thereby avoiding her own trial. Not that there wouldn't have been much of a problem with it anyway, as Lacroix was glad to be rid of the troublesome head of the Anarchs. Nines had stepped up to keep people from going off half-cocked, but more and more people defected every night, until now we barely had a riding pack.

Scowling, I looked in the mirror and surveyed my face. It didn't take me long to clean my healing nose of the dried blood and wash the makeup from my face. Drying off, I put on a fresh layer of makeup, adding lipstick, and eyeliner where I normally wouldn't. With my face on, I opened my wardrobe and pulled out my dress. It was a black sleeveless evening gown with a silver pattern on the bodice that hid my chest rather well. I stepped into the sumptuous gown, zipping it up. I then pulled out my black four inch heels that made the dress fall just at the right height. I opened up my jewelry box, pulling out my rhinestone necklace and slipping it around my neck. It hung right over my collarbone, filling the black sheer spot with a bit of color, then hung my rhinestone earrings from my ears to add more color to my dreary look.

Not my best look, but it was presentable in respectable circles. Lifting my patterned hem from the floor, I walked to the door, and picked up my clutch purse that held my license and some spare cash, and snatched my car keys from the hook. Heading outside, Steve gave me a wolf whistle in appreciation as I left out the back door and entered my Buick sedan. Once inside, I hit the interstate and went north to Beverly Hills.

Michele's place was tastefully lit, accentuating its gorgeous artwork and majestic fountain, even at night. I pulled up to the front door, leaving my car parked where all could see. Everyone knew I came here, though most people thought that was because my sire also lived here. We were still on speaking terms, though most of that was because of Michele not allowing me to be thrown to the wolves after he abandoned me two months after he sired me. She had given me a job, couriering messages around Hollywood, allowing me to grow my contacts over the years. It wasn't until several years later that I was able to start the Last Round, though at first it was meant to be a coffeehouse for my beatnik lifestyle. The problem was, by the time I had started the Round, the beatnik population had shrank so far that I wasn't able to keep it going as a coffeehouse.

That was when Otto had started using the place as a meeting area for the Anarchs. I had snagged a deal with Doctor Cuddy, buying packets of blood from their overstock and helping keep her flagging hospital open. With a supply of blood, I was now able to serve everyone that came through my door, charging a good price for blood and helping flagging members of all clans the chance to feed without feeding the beast. After that, I took to dividing the customers, with the upstairs reserved for kindred and the downstairs used by ghouls and kine. Eventually though, the kine stopped coming, but I kept my old post at the foot of the stairs that way I could keep the rowdier people under control when tempers flared.

That's actually how I got the handle Damsel the Den Mother. I usually helped everyone who came through my door slake their beast, feed and find companionship. After twenty plus years, it was hard to come to Michele's and be reminded that when I was born, even when I was first sired, I had a different name. Not that I hated it, but it wasn't me anymore. I wasn't the damsel in distress Otto took me for when he first set foot in the Round. I was the den mother who made even the biggest, baddest and meanest Brujah back down and cower. I guess after all the years of people calling me Damsel, no one even bothered with my real name anymore.

"Mademoiselle Swan," Remy said as she opened the door for me. "We did not expect you so soon after your most recent visit. Mon chère maîtresse is in the study," she said, her accent heavily laden in french.

I walked past her, heading through the foyer and down the hall to my right. Michele had built her home on the idea of her study being spy proof. It was solid, with no windows to the outside world and walls a foot thick to deafen any sound from leaving. The room itself was a testament to the nights of old, lit by soft candlelight that never flickered because no breeze could reach their flame. The walls housed some of the most rare artwork found outside of a museum and included paintings and sculptures. It was enough to make any Toreador swoon.

Any that was but me. I didn't swoon over artwork. I prefer a good speech in the vein of Martin Luther King Junior or Winston Churchhill. My sire is a gifted orator, that was what drew me to the square, but what drew him to me were my good looks and the fact that I was a cool hipster at the high tide of beatnik fashion. That was why my sire left me in the end, I fell out of fashion and he moved on.

"Elizabeth!" Michele said, taking small steps in her cream colored hobble skirt with a white top that accentuated her curves and wrapped her arms around me. "What brings you back so soon? Did something happen to Miss Flores?"

"I think she's having problems with her beast," I said, preferring to be direct on the issue. We didn't have much time, and I wanted to return home before I got stuck here. It wasn't bad, but just didn't feel right.

"Come and tell me everything," she said, leading me to the loveseat. We sat, and I was about to spill on Eliza when my sire walked in looking rather disheveled in a crumpled suit and with at least three tears in the jacket.

"For all that is unholy these nights," he started to say, only stopping when he saw me. "Elizabeth, my dear, what on earth are you doing here?"

"I had a development with Eliza and needed to ask Michele about it. What happened to you? Get caught in a blender?"

"Sabbat raid," he gruffed, going to sit opposite us in an armchair. "The savages raided me just after midnight. I was in the recording studio with my new group, the Fey, when they burst through my door."

"How bad?" Michele asked, putting a hand over her mouth to cover up how shocked she was.

"The studio," he said, hanging his head. "I was only able to salvage one of my girls. One of the feral beasts had tried to feed from her, but he lacked fangs and so ripped her throat out with his teeth. I ghouled her, trying to save her life, but she has yet to even speak. I left her with Remy who's trying to get her cleaned up."

"Les autres?" Michele breathed, asking about the other girls in the band. If he hadn't changed things, the band had five members in it, girls he had helped raise from their barely teens to be beautiful and artistic goddesses whom he would mold into the next hit band. It was one of the few times I'd seen him stick to something on a long term plan, but the Cammies wouldn't let him embrace willy nilly anymore. Maybe there was something to it after all.

"I tried. You know my thoughts on ghouls, but my blood couldn't save them all. I fed it to three, but Sarah and Cherise stopped breathing just after. Only Dianna continues to draw breath, though she hasn't uttered a sound since."

Michele muttered in french, and I couldn't help but feel bad for the girl. She probably didn't know a thing about kindred society, and was in shock from her near death experience. But, if her vocal cords had been ripped out, she'd forever be mute even though her skin would knit itself back together with flawless precision because we couldn't regenerate lost body parts. I honestly couldn't think of a worse fate for a singer.

"Yes, it's very tragic," he said, deflating into the chair. "Four years of work down thrown into the well of hostility."

"I'm sure you will be able to recreate your work in time, Monsieur Barker. You knew going into this that the kine are only temporary, anyway," she said soothingly, consoling the bastard. I didn't like what happened to his pet project, but I'd be damned if I gave him any consolation for ruining another set of lives.

"So, what is happening in the life of my childe?" he asked me, looking at me from where he sat in the chair. I swear I saw the man smirk at the thought I was in distress, and I had to repress the urge to slug him.

"Eliza has the problem, not me thankfully. She tried to make me a snack after the trial," I said, and Michele gasped.

"Surely not?" she said, taking my hand.

"Surely did," I responded back. "We were making out and suddenly she sinks her fangs into my neck like I was her personal blood doll!"

"Surely you jest? She attempted to diablerize you?" my sire asked, making light of what happened.

"Attempted? She put me in torpor!" I hissed at him. "She had an attack of conscious and left off just before she actually did kill me, thank god. Not that I had that much blood in me at the time, anyway."

"And it was during your affair that she fed from you?" Michele asked and I nodded.

"Just nuzzled right under my ear and fed. She's stronger than she looks, she never even wavered when I tried to resist, just kept right sucking from my jugular until I passed out," I told them. "She used a rabbit to bring me back, which is about the only reason I didn't stake the crazy bitch and leave her."

"That and I'd be severely upset," Michele said, dipping further into her French accent and adding an edge to her voice. She had the ability to be the softest person you ever met, but that was a ruse she used to make people underestimate her. "You know my plans for toppling this travesty of an empire Lacroix has wrought on us. Using Eliza to create unrest is crucial to my plans. I only wish I knew of her aptitude for politics, but there was nothing in her school file to indicate she wished to pursue such a career as such."

"I was amazed she made the prince back down in front of the whole kindred population," Barker added. "Are we sure she's not a Sabbat plant?"

"What do you mean?" Michele asked, losing the edge and dropping back to her feminine ways.

"This Andrei that Simeon warned us of," Barker started, leaning forward and putting his hands together in thought, "We know so little of him, except that he's a Tzimisce fleshcrafter. Simeon said he'd rally the packs, but what if there was another, one whom he didn't think would survive trial?"

"We already know she was embraced as a Sabbat," Michele said, cocking her head as she thought. "You suggest that Miss Flores is only a cover, that he killed the poor girl and they are using another, older kindred to masquerade as her? For what purpose? The poor girl is watched everywhere she goes."

"Yeah, but the idea does have merit," I said, hating to admit my sire might be right about anything. "She's too powerful, too good at being kindred."

"Oui, my contacts in the tower said she's worth millions already," Michele added.

"Within a week. How does she do it if she's not more knowledgeable than she seems?" Barker stated.

"I don't know," I said, thinking it over. "I think she really is just that clever. But she keeps making rookie mistakes."

"What else could there be?" he asked me.

"What if it's like the Ravnos we had in town a few years ago.. Right before he went crazy and we put him down?"

"I did hear the rumor that Zapathasura, their clan antediluvian, rose in Bangladesh the week before," Barker stated. "His death at the hands of the Kue-Jin, the hunters and the lupines done their clan under. There's not even a clan anymore."

"You think the Lasombra antediluvian has risen successfully?" Michele asked, a little shock to her voice. "That could go bad for the Camarilla, and the world as a whole."

"Maybe," Barker said, leaning back in his chair. "But the last word I ever heard on him during my time in London was that his own childe killed him and confined him to the Void."

"A place the Lasombra travel?" Michele asked him.

"Yes, that's how their elders travel. I've heard it said that they can travel from shadow to shadow regardless of how far it is, but to get there, they have to go through the Void," he told her, eyes closed in private thought.

"Is it possible that he could escape?" I asked, thinking of what Nines said about Eliza jumping behind Jack when he pulled his sawed-off on her.

"Not without a body," my sire told me, then his eyes jumped awake as he sat up in his chair. "You've seen something?"

"She jumped behind Jack in the Round after he pulled a gun on her. Just appeared behind him and mule-kicked him across the loft."

"Merde," Michele whispered.

"This could be a disaster. If she's fallen to their antediluvian, the ramifications to the city are undeniable!"

"Think of what a Methuselah could do to Lacroix, though," Michele said, and I looked at her.

"I would sooner plant a bough of holly in her heart," Barker groused, dropping his head into his cupped hands.

"Methuselah?" I asked, not familiar with the term.

"After a while, kindred evolve into something more than what we are now. The blood of kine will no longer sustain them, and they are driven by a powerful hunger," Michele explained. "I never thought you'd meet one here, where so few of the elders have moved and thought you safe from their predations, but a Methuselah is to kindred what we are to kine."

"They hunt us?" I said, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. "Wouldn't our blood bind them?"

"They aren't mere paltry beings that are so easily enslaved," Barker continued. "They feed from us like cattle. If they were so easily brought low, we wouldn't fear them so."

I was about to mouth back at my sire when I remembered that Eliza resisted my command to quack like a duck. She asked about aphasia, but I just thought she hadn't had enough of my blood. My shock must have shown on my face because both Barker and Michele started to cuss.

"She did something, I see it in your face," he said, rising to his feet.

"After she brought me back, I asked her to quack like a duck. I thought it would make it easier to do my job if I had a measure of control on her, but she didn't even acknowledge my command. I thought she just resisted it since she's only a stage one ghoul."

"Such a simple command should have been followed," Michele said, rising herself and moving to one of the bookshelves containing old tomes. "For her to so blatantly defy you is proof she is becoming something more," she added as she began to fiddle under the lip of a shelf.

"I think we might need to alert the city to the danger we all face," Barker said, moving beside Michele as she pulled something from its hidden spot on the bookshelf.

"Non," she said decisively, and I saw the edge form in the petite woman, the same edge I used to keep the Brujah in line. "We tell no one that Lasombra might have returned to kindred society. So help me Felix Barker, if you defy me on this I will not stay Remy's hand from your throat."

"You wouldn't dare!" he said, stepping back from a woman who was a good foot shorter than he was as if she were a deadly snake. I smirked at thinking Remy might finally get revenge for all the things Barker had subjected her to during his time with Michele. That slimy bastard definitely needed taking down a peg.

"And the law would be on her side. I will see to that," she snapped back as the old tome hit him in the chest. It wasn't one I recognized, but it had easily seen better years. She sat to an antique rolltop and turned on a light.

"My sire, Louis had a ghoul with a penchant for writing. She traveled with my sire wherever he went, usually keeping notes on important people they met. One of them was Mithras," she explained as she turned a page. I went over to look at the diary, but couldn't make heads or tails of the scrawled words, recognizing a few as Latin. "Mithras was the prince of London for over eight centuries, and my sire was often forced to travel there for important functions of the royalty. Unfortunately, that meant he was under the auspices of the prince, and Madeleine often recorded their interactions."

"What happened to them?" I asked, not remembering ever being told of her sire or his ghoul.

"Louis was killed by the Wehrmacht when they took control of Paris. He had tried to protect the artwork of the museum from their plundering hands and they shot him down for it. Madeleine was later killed by the Heer for rampaging in the street after losing her mind. That was why I left Paris on foot, hiding in shallow graves as we traversed to Spain to escape the Nazis. I could not even save my own artwork."

"So what does this diary say of Mithras?" Barker asked.

"Here it is," she said, sliding the diary to the side so we could read it, or at least Barker could. I had no use for the dead language.

"I have noticed my master on rare occasion return home in a rare mood of hostility," Barker read for me." On such occasion he has been with Prince Mithras, and all I can get in response is a mumbling of being fed from. Who could feed from a kindred? This thought scares me, for I have seen the power of my master move crowds in his favor. To see a kindred more powerful than he is a thought that should scare anyone.

"Third of May, Seventeen ought Seven. Tonight the Prince has come to our home. I had went to the cellar and procured a pitcher of blood from the 'cattle' there and had returned to the library to see the Prince feeding from my master. I wanted to run from the room but I felt my fears multiply until I sagged to the floor with rivers running from my eyes. It was only after the Prince had left that I was able to rise and attend my master, the fang marks of his recent feeding still evident on his neck. He has yet to rise, and I fear he may be truly dead."

"Damn," I said, thinking it was just like me and Eliza. We really had a Methuselah on the loose? Moving to No-where-ville suddenly sounded like the plan of the century.

"She goes on to say that he finally rose the next night, ravaging one of his blood dolls to death in a near frenzied state before calming down. They left London after that, sailing on a ship back to Paris."

"He would often tell me not to travel to London for fear of meeting my end there at the hands of the prince, Michele said. "He said it was the eeriest thing he'd ever experienced. To be fed from, to experience sheer pleasure and pain at once, to know that his life was mere inches away from death and there was nothing he could do to stop it. These Methuselahs, she talks about them later in the diary. It took her the better part of fifty years to uncover what Louis knew of them. They are the ultimate predator, and the power they possess is untold of when they learn the powers of other clans."

"What should I do then?" I asked her, not certain if I wanted to be close to Eliza again or not. "The way we kind of left things publicly, she's not that close to me anymore."

"What do you mean, child?" Barker asked me.

"She's going to try to get in tight with Lacroix, see if there's anything she can rip apart. When she left me earlier at the Last Round, she broke my nose as a way of signaling she wasn't going to be with the Anarchs anymore."

"You were seen, oui?" Michele asked me, looking at me with intent eyes.

"Two Nos on the rooftop nearby. Pretty sure they were Gary's boys," I told her.

"Pah," she said, standing and taking short strides in her hobble skirt to one of her high backed chairs. "That sewer rat had to vote against me on principles of beauty. At least that Nazi Mueller I can understand opposing me, as he has since my days in Paris, but that sewer rat," she spat, holding her hand as she thought over something, "That sewer rat will oppose me just because I am still beautiful."

"And I suppose Scott is still mad over that little bet about that movie remake?" Barker asked smiling.

"That 'movie remake' cost me over a hundred million to make," Michele said, shaking her head. "Just because it beat that zombie soldier film he was so proud of at the box office. And for your information, it was a prequel, not a remake. The originals did very well for themselves."

"Yeah, well," I said, trying to head off this argument before the sun came up and we all passed out arguing, "No one knew that Star Wars was going to be the hit it was. I still say it's going to make you a billion dollars."

"Time will tell, mon cher," she said, smirking. "All I needed was one more vote that night to have her on the Primogen Council, and with her Anarch tendencies she would have listened to me and me alone."

"How did you know she would side with the Anarchs?" I asked, wondering how she knew from such simple reports how Eliza would react on such a complicated issue.

"I did not," she said, frowning a bit. "I did however gather that she is a trained martial artist and knew that Nines would be in the area when she would be passing through. Letting that Sabbat pack know that their intended target would be was a simple matter with a phone call, and with Nines there to save her," she said, trailing off as I shook my head.

"You set her up to die?" I growled, ready to snap.

"No," she said, sitting up and facing me. "I set her up to shift her loyalties. From such a simple thing, she now trusts in Nines Rodriguez, even going so far as to warn him that Lacroix was about to frame him for murdering Grout. Without that small bit of trust, we might as well shift our loyalties for real because he would be dead, and there is none that can rally the city under them."

"I still don't like it," I said, sitting back on the love seat.

"As I told you when I made you, this life comes with drawbacks, my childe," Barker told me as he sat in an armchair near Michele. "Often you will need to endanger or kill in the Final Nights, and to hesitate might mean you yourself will be the victim."

"I know, sire," I growled, mad for him making me feel like a childe again that was being told some things just had to be, "But they used an anti-tank gun on the limo. She could have been killed before she ever made it downtown."

"Anti-tank gun?" Michele asked, looking between me and Barker.

"In this case, it launches an explosive designed to punch through armor and kill its occupants. The fact that she was kindred is probably the only reason she survived," I explained to her. She really needed to learn her way around military weapons. "If they had flamethrowers, they could have incinerated her where she stood."

"Which is why I'm glad the Sabbat like to make trophies of their kills," Michele said defensively. "They would take her eyes to keep her from running away, her tongue to keep her somewhat quiet and her fangs to use as trophies. Sabbat packs are nothing if not predictable."

"I think we've argued these points for long enough," Barker said as he looked at his watch. "It's already past six and the sun will rise in twenty minutes. If anyone should want me, or want to join me, I'll be in my room upstairs," he said as he stood and left the study. Remy came in as he left, with two glasses of warm blood and offered me one which I greedily took.

"Thanks, Remy," I said, drinking the warm vitae she offered. It was warm and sweet, and with a clear head, I was able to feel almost alive and warm in my skin. Returning the cup to Remy I stood and stretched. "Well Michele, I was going to head home before the sun rose, but I'm pretty sure I'm going to need to borrow my old room."

"Oui, mon chere," she said, standing and offering her now empty cup to Remy. "My house is always available should you need it."

"Monsieur Barker's ghoul Dianna is set to sleep in the northern bedroom and I've already prepared Mademoiselle Swan's old room," Remy said as she stood to the side, ready to assist her mistress should the need arise.

"Merci, Remy. You are very helpful," I said, thanking the ghoul who bowed before me.

"De rien, Mademoiselle Swann," she said, as I stepped past her and headed up the stairs.

Upstairs, I went into the communal bathroom and washed my makeup off my face, wanting to do that before I entered my room. That was the problem with the communal bathroom. First one there got priority, and I was just grateful that Barker didn't need it for anything. Stepping out of the bathroom and into my old bedroom, I found a platinum blonde sitting on the bed in her nightgown.

"Hello," I said, and the woman flinched. She scurried back away from me, but didn't make any sound. "Dianna, I'm not going to hurt you," I said and she seemed to shrink away as I approached. Slipping out of my heels, I stepped into the closet and put on my silk nightgown and was surprised that Dianna was still waiting on my bed.

"Sweetie, are you okay?" I asked, and she rubbed her throat as she moved her mouth. I slipped in beside her on the bed, and wrapped an arm around the petite blonde. She was shaking from fear, and I held her close as I remembered a tune my mother used to sing to me when I was scared as a little girl. I think she got it off a movie, but it always put me to sleep.

" _A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain  
Softly blows o'er Lullaby bay  
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting  
Waiting to sail your worries away_

 _It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain  
And your boat waits down by the quay  
The winds of night, so softly are sighing  
Soon they will fly your troubles to sea_

 _So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain  
Wave goodbye, to cares of the day  
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain  
Sail far away from Lullaby Bay_

 _So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain  
Wave goodbye, to cares of the day  
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain  
Sail far away from Lullaby Bay."_

After I finished the song, Dianna was sleeping comfortably in my arms, and I let her sleep. I continued to sing songs from my childhood, keeping my tone soft to allow the newly minted ghoul a moment to sleep. I continued singing as long as I could after the sun rose, but the pull of sleep had me passing out before long and I slept with Barker's ghoul in my arms.

=o=0=o=

~Eliza Flores~

Looking at the apartment complex in the pre-dawn light now that I was supposed to be dead was somewhat eerie. I hadn't seen so much as a curtain move in the apartment her father rented for her in the ten minutes I had been standing here, and I finally decided it was safe enough. Samantha liked to go for a long run in the morning to help keep her in shape, and she usually did it in the morning when it was still cool and the traffic wasn't bad.

Stepping into the shadow of the pillar, I stepped out in the familiar confines of Samantha's one bedroom apartment. I didn't want to get caught here, because I had so few options available then; kill or ghoul her. Killing her was something I didn't think I could bring myself to do, and ghouling her seemed to be too harsh a lifestyle to force on her. Especially if it made someone lippy when they needed blood. Samantha's lifestyle as a lawyer-to-be would keep her away during the day, so if she got lippy, I was liable to see it on the news right before the sheriff's deputies came for me.

No, I needed to get my stuff while she was gone. Her running shoes were missing from beside the door, which was a good sign as I went into the hallway. I opened the door, still trying to be as quiet as I could so no one knew I was in here. I began to move things from the boxes in the bottom of the closet. I had just moved a box marked fragile off of one with my name on it when I heard Samantha speak behind me.

"If you don't get on the ground right now, I'm going to splatter your brains all over the floor."

I froze, momentarily panicked by being caught in the act of stealing multiplied by the fact that she wasn't ever supposed to see me alive. My two choices came to mind, and very carefully I stood raising my hands to show my surrender.

"I said on the ground," Samantha hissed at me, as I slowly turned around and faced her. Her face went slack as mine became visible, and the bat she held in a ready swing position fell from limp fingers to clatter on the floor.

"Liza?" she whispered, just as the sun came up high enough to start putting me to sleep. I leaned against the wall, torn between risking a violation of the Masquerade by stepping out or staying and going to sleep. I didn't get much choice in the matter, as in the next moment, Samantha ran forward in her pajamas and wrapped herself around me, hugging me tight. "You're home," she sobbed, happily crying on my shoulder as I patted her back. We rocked back and forth for several minutes, and I decided that there was no way I could keep my humanity if I forced Samantha to think I was dead again. I was going to have to figure out a way to keep her from making a big deal of my return.

"I'm home," I whispered, holding my one true friend. I could feel the sleepiness in me build, and between the wall and Samantha, it was all I could do to stay on my feet. I guess I was in this for the long haul now.

"What happened? I found your car stripped when you didn't come home and I called the police," she said, still crying as she hugged me. "Then two days later they found your purse next to that drum and they told me you were dead. I had to go the morgue to identify the body, but it wasn't you. I'm glad it wasn't you."

"How did you know it wasn't me? I heard the police confirmed it was me and the coroner closed the file."

She pulled away, bring my left hand up to hold between us, and kissed my thumb. "I don't think anyone has ever noticed this, but there's a brown streak down the center of your thumb. That other body, the nails were perfect."

I blinked at that. One fingernail was what she based her conception that I wasn't dead on? "But, I was told you delivered my eulogy," I said, stumbling like a drunk towards her bedroom. I was going to pass out soon, and I would rather make it to a bed than sleep on the floor.

"I was kind of forced to," she said, shaking her head as she lowered me to the bed. She knelt in front of me and started pulling my boots off, but I wasn't sure if she understood I was tired and wanted to sleep or if she wanted to help me change clothes. "Some of the students in your class wanted to have a wake, and I got pressed into it even though I kept telling them it wasn't your body they found. I do have a Polaroid of your headstone though. Figured you'd want it for a laugh if I ever found you. So what happened? Where did you go?"

I sighed, not sure if I wanted to tell her everything, or how much I could tell her. I decided on telling her half of it anyway, the half I could tell her. "When I came out of confession after midnight mass, I found my car stripped. I decided that I was going to walk home since it wasn't far back to campus when he showed up. His name was Simeon, and he offered me a ride."

Samantha finished pulling my boots off and sat beside me, putting an arm around me. "He kidnapped you didn't he?"

I nodded. "He took me to a warehouse, and they took me downstairs to a bed. They ripped my clothes off and, well," I said, not wanting to relive those terrible days even though they were burned into my brain forever. Samantha understood and pulled me in tighter. I knew the sun was now above the ground, and leaned heavily on my friend. "It lasted days, Sammie," I told her. "I couldn't even stay awake through it all. After, he," I said, pausing and choosing my words. I didn't want to say blood, so I opted for a word that I often used to describe my blood, "he gave me drugs, Sammie."

Samantha hugged me tighter, and I put my head on her shoulder as I was getting more and more tired. I could feel my body shutting down and needed to sleep. "It'll be okay," she said, consoling me. "We'll get you into rehab and we'll take care of you. I'll have my dad pay for everything."

I yawned as I fought off the desire to sleep. My mind started to slow down, making it harder to think. Somehow, I figured I wouldn't be able to step out through the shadows if I wanted to. "Sammie, I need to sleep, okay?" I asked her, slurring my words slightly. "But the drugs they gave me, you can't let the light touch me okay?"

"Okay, sweetie," she said, laying me back in the bed. She began stripping me of my clothes, and I fought to stay awake. I no longer had any say in what she took off as my body became limp, and soon Sammie had me laying in my birthday suit on her satin sheets.

"I mean it," I slurred, knowing I was about to slip off to sleep. "The sun will hurt me. Just cover me up and let me sleep. And don't tell anyone I'm back. I don't think I can take the strain" I said, and I felt something warm on my cheek.

"Sleep, sweetie," I heard Samantha say. "I'll make sure no one knows you're here. We'll get you counseling and rehab," I heard Samantha say as I drifted into the darkness of sleep.


	28. Chapter 28 -Choices Part 3

Chapter 28 – Choices (Part 3)

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

~Dianna~

It was soft and warm, so I knew I wasn't back in the motel room. There was nothing warm about that room, damn rat trap anyway. I opened my eyes to find myself laying on the bosom of the redhead whose room I must've been in. She had been calming, even as I was freaking out over the deaths of my friends. She even sang me to sleep. I was careful to disturb her as I got out, not wanting to wake her.

For some reason, I wanted to find Felix. I couldn't imagine why I felt I needed to find the slimeball, especially after the way he treated us girls, forcing us to become supermodels to appease his ridiculous ideas about beauty. The idea of the man trying to rip my throat out sent me scurrying to the bathroom for a mirror. When I woke up from the man who had tried to rip my throat out, Felix was tying a scrap of Sarah's dress around it and telling me we should run. It still hurt then, so I didn't argue with him and we skedaddled in his Audi.

I knew enough about where I was out to know I was in Beverly Hills, but the shock and trauma from last night didn't let me remember much past that. After getting to the house, I was placed in a woman's care, a women Felix called Remy. She was cute, about my height, if a little heavier and healthier with long wavy brown hair and sparkling hazel eyes. She had led me up to the bathroom and let me wash myself, even giving me a silk nightie to wear to bed.

She had explained that I was to sleep in the house that night, which was owned by her mistress, a woman named Michele. After being shown my room, I headed back to the bathroom for some relief issues, then was dumbfounded on which room was mine. I guess I chose badly because the redhead came in after I got comfortable on what was her bed, and frightened me.

I thought about it as I stood in the sunlight seeping through the shuttered windows, the speed with with Felix moved left him a blur, and I know I saw several bullets rip into him. I remember him also pulling a knife from his shoulder and me drinking from his wrist. I shuddered at what it added up to, but thoughts of Felix tugged at me, leading me out the door. On the landing outside, I turned to a door at the head of the stairs. How I knew, I couldn't say, but I knew Felix slept in that room.

Want and need made me walk towards it. I couldn't help but think that I wanted to open the door when my mind finally screamed at me to stop. At war with myself, I nearly bawled at the thought of what my brain and my body wanted and leaned against the door with my hand atop the knob. My brain wanted me to run, and my body demanded I open the door. It wasn't until warm hands wrapped around my shoulders and led me down the stairs that the feeling passed.

After I was set on a barstool, I discovered the hands were connected to Remy. The brown haired woman was dressed in a silk bathrobe that was tied around her waist. I tried to speak, but no sound came out of my mouth. I rubbed my neck, but it wasn't sore anymore, and I couldn't even hum.

"Your throat," Remy said in her thick French accent, "it still hurts?" I shook my head no, and she lifted my chin as she inspected it herself. "Can you make any sound at all?" I opened my mouth to speak, but again, no sound came out. I finally slumped on the stool, and shook my head.

"Then, I am sorry, young one," she said as she patted my back in sympathy, "but that Sabbat bastard must have ripped your vocal chords out trying to feed from you."

I tried to process what she was telling me as it sank in. I was already coming to grips that I wouldn't be able to sing again, let alone speak. But the last bit it was hit me hard. She knew who had nearly killed me. I spun to face her, giving her an intense glare that demanded answers.

She sighed, then explained. "Our masters are vampires. They are part of an organization called the Camarilla and are violently opposed by the Sabbat. The bastard who ripped your throat out was trying to feed from your blood. Your master, Felix Barker, saved your life by feeding you his blood. You are his ghoul now. You can feel it, can't you? That you want to go crawl into his bed?"

I nodded, turning back the counter where I crossed my arms and laid down my head. It was all adding up in my head fast, that everything she said was true. She sat beside me, putting her arm around my shoulders. I couldn't help but stare out the window at the sun as it was still high in the sky. How long until it went down?

"Right now, you are capable of leaving if you choose," she said and I perked up at that. "You've only tasted his blood once, in a week, you'll crave it so bad you'll lose your mind for a day. If you can make it through that day, you'll be free. You will never crave him again."

I picked up at that, and looked into her eyes. She smiled at me, then spoke softly, "You want to leave him, yes? To run away from this madness?" I nodded yes as she paused for my answer. If what my brain said was true was right, I didn't want no part of it.

"Then you need to leave before your master makes you drink from him again," she said and I looked at her.

"Surely you do not want to end up like me? I am my masters slave until her death, and even then I will not easily take another master if I so wished," she said, then sighed. "We are ghouls. Mortals who are fed their blood to become something more. As long as we drink their blood, we are ageless. Sounds good, yes? It comes with a price," she said as she got up and started to make coffee. "We are their servants, doing whatever they ask without regards to what we want or whether we live or die. For all intents and purposes, every word they say is law we must live by."

I slumped at that. I didn't mind living forever, but losing myself to be his slave. That rankled me at the core. Remy brought out a serving set and set it out for me. "You must make a choice. Stay or leave. If you stay, I know Monsieur Barker will not care for you very well. He does not like us ghouls, ever since my master used me to lure him to our home in Paris."

She began to pour the hot coffee into a lightweight porcelain cup. "Monsieur Barker is not the sort to offer you his blood freely. He will make you beg for it, where my Michele offers hers freely to me."

I thought about it as I sipped the coffee she offered. It boiled down to whether I wanted to accept Felix and become his slave. Well, as a pure bread American, not ever going to fucken happen. Grandpa Radar might actually break his pacifist streak to pass a fist across my cheek. 'Can I leave?' I wrote on the pad.

"Oui," she said as she sipped her coffee. "He has given you no orders, yes? It makes it easier. Right now you at the first level of ghouling. You can resist, but its not easy. In a week, maybe less, you'll want him so bad you'll come crawling back. It will hurt, but if you don't resist, he will own you."

I put my head back on my crossed arms. I didn't want this, any of it. I left Iowa to be a pop star, not become a slave. 'Can you help me? I don't have anything left,' I wrote.

"Oui, I can," she said, and I relaxed. "I can give you some of my clothes, we are about the same size. I do not have much cash, but if you need to return for any reason, please do so during the day. They must sleep then, and will have no hold over you."

'Can you tell me about them? Like what their weaknesses are and how to protect myself? Maybe identify them?' I wrote on the pad.

"Not much," she said, frowning as her jaw quivered. "My master's laws keep me from telling you since you are not hers. Protecting yourself? They are powerful, but sunlight burns them. Stakes to the heart will stop them, and fire takes a long time to heal, plus it stops them and can make them run away. Anything else is wasting your time.

"Identifying them is easy, regardless of what type they are. Their pale skin usually is the first thing you will notice. If you get closer, you might see their fangs when they speak. Many of them are pretentious, and will overlook you, and they mainly stick to large cities where they can feed easily at night. Smaller cities and villages lack the night life to sustain their activities, so their you will be safe."

I am so going to the farm, raise everything I need to survive and never leave it. Grandpa Radar could teach me everything I needed to know, and I'd stay far, far away from any kind of night life.

"Come with me," Remy said, as she began to leave the kitchen. "We need to have you far away from here before the sun sets."

Good, I thought as we went back upstairs. I wanted to be gone before Felix woke up.

-o-0-o-

~Eliza Flores~

I came awake in a murky blackness. It resembled the void I found Lasombra in, and the swarmy bastard was smiling as I faced him.

"Tonight is the night, childe," he said, almost growling. "My power has finally grown and it is time for me to assert my will on this world again."

"Over my undead body," I said as I braced for his attack, then my eyes snapped open as I felt a jolt of electricity surged through my body, making my muscles spasm. The paramedics had me laying on the floor with wires running into a defibrillator machine, and I immediately pulled the wires from my chest before they saw that I had no heartbeat. I closed the top on my old pajamas, glad Sammie hadn't left me nude on the bed.

"We got a live one," one of them laughed as they helped me to a sitting position. "You alright ma'am? Any tingling, numbness, pain?"

"No," I said as I imitated breathing deep as I fumbled to get my shades back on. "Must've taken one too many sleeping pills," I said, trying to keep the cops out of this. Like I needed any more attention. The paramedics started to pack up, giving me the usual spiel about being careful taking sleeping pills or any other kind of depressant, and I assured them that I would be more careful in the future as I escorted them to the door. I had to step back when the door opened to reveal a sunlit parking lot lest I get burned by the light, a look at the clock over the stove telling me it was only four in the afternoon. Samantha stood in the corner, nervous as I ushered everyone out. It wasn't until I looked back that Samantha even moved out of the bedroom door.

"I'm sorry, it didn't look like you were breathing, and I kind of panicked," she said, looking scared in the doorway to her room. I rushed over and put my arms around her and gave her a hug.

"It's okay," I said as I gave her a reassuring squeeze. "You did good."

"I just didn't want to lose you again," she said, tears in her voice, as she held onto me. "So, I checked on some rehab places for you and most of them are right here in town."

I pulled away, surprised she was still on about rehab. "Sammie, I don't need rehab."

"You so do," she said arguing with me as she followed me into the front room. "I don't even have sleeping pills, and last you were in this apartment, you didn't use them either."

"No, I didn't," I started to say, sitting on the sofa and well clear of the little light coming through the closed blinds as Sammie took a spot next to me and we turned to face each other so we could better talk.

"In Bobby Donnell's criminal class, we were taught to examine a suspect's habits and how they changed to indicate criminal activity. So let me tell you what I see when I see you. You leave here, you get abducted and when you come back, I can accept that you passed out from exhaustion. But to wake up and take sleeping pills? It tells me two things, one you want to die, or two, you're addicted to drugs. So what is it?"

"Killing yourself is a mortal sin, Sammie," I told her softly. "And I'm not addicted to drugs."

"Tell me another one," she said, scoffing at me.

"Sammie, what I'm involved in is serious business."

"Then tell me about it," she pleaded. "I can help you."

"You can't," I told her and she made to get up. "Sammie, I didn't escape. I was rescued by a super secret organization that I'm forced to be part of. They are serious about their secrecy. I'm not supposed to tell you I'm alive, and if you make a big deal about this, they will kill me and you too."

I hung my head, trying to think how to explain this without her making a scene. "I can give you three options here. One, you take the drug I'm on and join me. Your life doesn't change, and I get to stay a part of it. Two, we lie. I tell everyone you're under the drug and I risk my life when tell you things I swore to keep secret, and if they don't like it, if you spill the secret at all, they kill us both. Three, I just walk out and you forget about me, and you quit searching for me. Maybe one day I can come back."

"Your options suck, by the way," she said, leaning back at her end. "So, what kind of secrets are we talking about anyway? That you kill people? Is Elvis part of your ranks?"

I shook my head. "Not if you can help it. Loose lips make coffins with us, so say the wrong thing to someone," I said, pausing to let it sink in.

"Then I'm forced to plug the leak I made," she said, finishing my line of thought. "Well, besides being able to see and talk to you, anything else I should know?"

"Not before you're a card carrying member of the club," I said while I reseated myself to cross my legs. "I can guarantee you a better life, though. I've got money now. Like millions of dollars."

"Any life with you is better," she said, pulling her knees up to her chest. "What can you tell me about this drug?"

"It's highly addictive, has stimulant uses and lasts about a month between doses like a hormone injection. It's designed to keep the people we use compliant, and under our control," I told her and she nodded in understanding. "Plus, I think it has ecstasy like properties that produce love-like feelings and it has a few properties that I think would seriously help you as a lawyer in the courtroom," I said, thinking of my presence abilities that seemed to pass on to my ghouls.

"So, if I went option number two?"

"I'd treat you as if you were, which risks my life as well as yours. Either way, you're my responsibility and any leaks you cause are blamed on me. Those leaks will get us killed if not immediately plugged. I'll admit now I've killed a few people, but if I can, I don't."

"Well, you know what my dad says about secrecy. I was raised on it so I could keep attorney-client privilege when I became a lawyer. You're secret is safe with me. Besides, if I like what I hear about that drug, I might take it and seal the deal."

"Are you sure? There's no getting out of this without a coffin of you're own," I asked her, though I wanted her to say yes.

"I am," she said, extending a hand and taking mine. "I take option two."

"Let me show you something," I said, unfolding my legs and standing up. "Let's go into the bathroom," I said, leading her into the tiny room and pointed her towards the mirror.

"Are you going to show me my split ends?" she asked and then I stepped behind her. She didn't notice me until I put my head on her shoulder then picked up her toothpaste and held it in front of her.

"Why," she started to say when I dropped the toothpaste and it appeared in the mirror. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed as she backpedaled into me. I held her by the shoulders and extended my fangs as she looked at me.

"This is the club I joined," I told her calmly with my fangs fully extended. "The bastard who kidnapped me and tortured me also made me a vampire. We use the term kindred," I told her and retracted my fangs. "For the most part, we don't harm the innocent, but we must keep our existence secret. No one must ever know I've risen again as an undead."

"Y-Y-Y-you," she stammered as she bolted into the bedroom and fell on the bed. I sauntered in behind her and took in her pale complexion. I sat on the bedside and placed a hand calmingly on her leg.

"I'm not going to harm you, Sammie," I told her soothingly, letting my presence flow out in an attempt to calm her. "But this is why I wanted to come, get my stuff, and slink back out. I was hoping you were out running," I said as I finally found her running shoes by her dresser which sparked another question. "Why weren't you by the way?"

"I always ran for you," she admitted, balling herself up against the headboard. "I can still remember that comment you made that I was getting a little chunky for that cocktail dress I love so much. So I began running so I'd fit in it and look good for you."

"While living, I must have had a blind spot the size of San Francisco to not see it," I said, kicking back to lay on the bed. "You know, I've had two women come onto me strong since I got turned."

"And?"

"One of them used me to get herself off," I admitted, thinking of Angel as she danced naked on my lap with her leg pressed against my bare womanhood.

"Sounds hot," she said, shifting around to lay next to me. "So what else can you tell me about this drug of yours? Is it even a drug?"

"No, it's my blood," I told her and she blanched. "Kindred blood binds the person who drinks it to the kindred they drank from. But there are benefits. You get some of our special powers. Two of my ghouls can attract any guy they want, even against that guys will, and should be able to influence an entire room to feel whatever they want. I know I can make an entire theater feel how I want them to feel, got a man out of an imminent execution that way."

"So if I had that power..." she said as she thought about it, then her mouth went slack as it reached it's conclusion.

"You could influence a jury to see things your way and no one would be the wiser," I said as she leaned back against the headboard to think. "Some of the other things I can do is manipulate shadow, even step through it to safety if need be, and increase my strength greatly. I once snapped a bat in two with just my hands."

"Wow," she breathed as that sank in. "So what are the drawbacks?"

"Well, for one you have to keep taking it every month," I told her as she started nodding. "Two, as your master, you become my slave. If I give you an order, you must follow it."

"Like a hypnotist?" she asked and I shook my head.

"You can't be hypnotized to do something you don't want to do," I said, citing an old maxims of magicians everywhere. "But, once you are drinking my blood, you can never say no to me. Ever. Even if I tell you to kill yourself."

"That's harsh," she said. "So, can you force people to drink it?"

"Yes, I could," I told her and she blanched again. "There's no acceptance needed with it. I can even slip it to a person as a drink with them thinking it's something else."

"So, what happens if one of these other 'kindred' find out I'm not taking your blood and dose me with theirs?" she asked me, and I blanched at the answer that I was forced to give her.

"You could sell me out and be forced to cause a masquerade break which as your supposed domitor, I'd be held responsible for," I told her. "You wouldn't be able to warn me either, if you were told to not tell me about it."

"Kindred blood can do that?" she asked me in an astonished voice.

"Last night I made a girl sell herself as a hooker even though she didn't want to do it," I said, feeling guilty about it even as Sammie scowled at me. "It's a problem I have to face that I'm losing myself. We call it the beast, but what it means is I'm capable of losing my humanity and empathy. If I'm not careful, I could wind up as a real monster."

"Do the other kindred have this problem?" she asked and I nodded.

"They do, but you seem to get used to it after awhile," I told her, then added, "Or maybe it's the fact that I'm still so young and adapting to my conditions. I've only been kindred for a week."

"So you couldn't come back to me until recently," she said as she moved closer to me. "I'm glad you're here though. Are there any other things about taking your blood I should know?

"It seems as though the people who take it become infatuated with me, and sometimes not in healthy ways," I told her. "Brian can't get me off his mind, Heather works endlessly on a coat for me, and Angel used me to get herself off. I imagine soon they're going to start fighting for my affection, which considering two live with me in my new beach house will be just lovely."

"I'm going to have to have to see this house of yours for myself," she teased, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Well, once the sun goes down I can take you out there on my Harley," I said and she smiled.

"One of the things you learn as a lawyer is the art of compromise," she said. "You said you can get around through the shadows, can you take me with you?"

"Um, I guess," I said, smiling at her acceptance. "Once you know where I live, you can bring my stuff out to me."

"Sounds good," she said as we stood up. "I might even move out there if I like it, though dad might stop by when he hears about moving into a beach front condo."

"Condo? Try mansion," I said and her jaw dropped. "It's a thirty million dollar, five bedroom and with five full and three half baths. It also has it's own theater room, weight room, game room, library, study and safe rooms."

"Says the woman who before she was kidnapped was sleeping on my couch," she snarked in disbelief. "What are you doing, knocking over banks?"

"One of the groups of kindred pretty much owns all money worldwide," I said, remembering what Walsh told me about the Ventrue. "That in mind, they can be pretty liberal with it to make other kindred do what they want, sometimes to the tune of millions. That's actually what I've been up to since I was turned, doing the business of the older, and much more powerful kindred."

"Who in turn pay you in millions?" she said, nodding absentmindedly. "Guess it works out alright," she said as she moved past me to grab my boots before turning back to face me. "Shall we?"

"Sure," I said, taking her in my arms and stepping into the shadows with my powers. When I stepped out, we were right where I wanted to be, the safe room that would be my room. The lights were on showing a bed that was partially assembled and a mannequin wearing Heather's finished duster. A few other boxes were leaned against the wall, the pictures on them showing them to contain a nightstand and dresser. I was just about to send Sammie out to find my ghouls when Brian and Heather came in carrying a large wooden object that seemed to be a freestanding closet between them.

"Mistress!" Heather exclaimed, dropping the clearly heavy piece of furniture much to Brian's dismay. "You're awake in daylight!"

"Heather!" Brian yelled as he held the piece on his own. I reached over and hefted the piece, using my potence to steady it before it fell. Brian and I set it down in a corner, and Heather grimaced when I faced her.

"Sorry," she said, making herself small against the wall near the entrance. "I just got carried away at seeing you. You just walked out."

"Had to take care of some personal business," I explained as Sammie came to join me. "Everyone, this is Samantha Timms. She's a friend of mine from when I was still breathing."

"Glad to meet ya," Brian said extending his hand. "Ya'll just get up or something?"

"Pretty much," she said as she took his hand. "When she showed up in my house this morning, she didn't tell me anything about her new status. I kind of flipped when I checked on her and she wasn't breathing. I thought she had overdosed."

"OD'ing usually leaves lines of vomit around the mouth," Brian said, and I shrugged at Samantha's questioning glance.

"Well, she's here now," Sammie said, trying to defuse the situation. "So what's going on with all the furniture?"

"Well," Heather said as she turned to gesture at the stuff already stacked into the room. "We did the shopping today and picked up the furniture we needed. It'll probably take us a few days to get it all pieced together, but we're starting to move forward."

"Good," I said, glancing around again, my eyes settling on the duster. It looked finished, and I ran my hand over the material. "Is it ready?"

"Yeah," she said as she moved to remove the it from the mannequin. "I even fashioned a leather holster for that katana you brought home. It's hidden in the back of the coat."

Heather slipped it off the mannequin and I slipped my hands down into it and she pulled it up on my shoulders. It fit rather well, and the katana was almost unfelt on my back. Heather buttoned it up, and I flexed the material to find it gave where I needed it to.

"You do good work, Heather," I said and Heather beamed at my appreciation. I reached under the rear panel for the sword, unsnapping the safety and pulling it free. It wasn't easy to get out, but with the sword free, I was now able to face another kindred in direct combat if need be. Sliding the sword back into it's scabbard wasn't easy, but with both hands, managed it quite well.

"That looks handy," Sammie said as she studied it. "Bulletproof?"

"I don't even know how to make anything like that," Heather admitted as she turned to Samantha. "Can you tell me how it's done?"

"You need kevlar," she said, explaining it to her. "You can order it in a bolt just like any cloth, and cut it to fit. Adjusting the thickness is how you adjust if you want to be lightweight and only bulletproof against handguns, or heavyweight and protect against all but armor piercing bullets."

"I guess if it can protect against handguns it can protect against stakes and arrows?" I asked and Samantha nodded.

"Your average arrow doesn't pierce any more than a nine mil," she said, and I looked at her. What all did her dad teach her?

"You are going to become my new best friend if you can get me some," Heather said which made Samantha chuckle as she said, "Sure, no problem."

"Well, now that we have that out of the way," I said as I slipped the duster off and put it back on the mannequin. "Are my clothes unpacked yet? Or are they still in the car?"

"Unpacked, but in the garage," Brian told me. "I'll be right back," he said as he disappeared down the hallway to my exit.

"Wow," Sammie said as she watched him go. "They really do follow your orders. Even perceived ones."

"Yeah," I said as Heather excused herself to get some chairs. "Now that I'm awake, it's time for them to get me ready to meet the night."

"But it's still like five in the evening," she said as she looked at an imaginary watch on her wrist. "Sunset won't be till six thirty."

"No, but they can get me ready for when it does come," I said as I looked around the room. With nothing to do but to wait, I looked things over. "Besides, it keeps them busy."

"They look good, though. Normal," she said as she followed me. I smirked, wondering where she was leading this. I could hear someone running down the stairs, and turned to the hallway leading to my room's only exit to see Constance come running in, almost out of breath.

"I wondered if you were coming back," she blurted out between pants. "I was upstairs doing my geometry homework at the table when Heather said you were back. I guess when you can teleport around the sun doesn't mean anything, huh?"

"Not really," I said, as I looked to the bed. "I still need to sleep like anyone else, though, and currently that's when the sun is high. If it weren't for the EMT's giving me a thousand volts into my heart I probably wouldn't be awake right now."

"Ouch," Constance said as she winced in sympathy. "So who called the ambulance, anyway."

"I did," Sammie said as she stepped forward. "She didn't have time to tell me what she was, just to not let the sun hit her when I put her to bed. When I checked on her, she wasn't breathing and I thought she had died."

Constance chuckled as she backed up to me, her movements slow and sultry. "Yeah, well, I trust you know what she is now?"

"She told me," Sammie said, eyeing Constance as she wrapped an arm around my neck to pull my head down to her neck. I knew where this was going, allowing it only because I was hungry.

"Well, around here," she said as she moved her hair off her neck as she leaned her head over to give me a better access, "I'm the one that satisfies her."

I could feel the blood thrum in her neck as I brushed my lips over the bare expanse. I looked up to see Sammie eyeing me, rooted where she stood by fear. Wrapping my arms around my 'meal,' I extended my fangs so Sammie could see them, before sinking them slowly into Constance's neck. She gasped as they pierced her skin, allowing me to drink her blood. Each gulp of her precious blood caused her to moan in ecstasy, writhing in my arms as I fed.

Once I finished drinking and pulled my fangs from her neck, I looked up at Sammie to see her eyes were still glued to the spot where I had fed from. I licked Constance's neck clean, then picked her up in my arms and set the teen on the uncompleted bed.

"Is she?" Sammie asked, and I shook my head.

"She'll be alright in a minute or two," I said as I stepped away from the sleeping teenager. Sammie moved to inspect her as Heather brought a pair of chairs in and set them down. I took one as Sammie inspected the now nonexistent bite marks.

"No wonder kindred are considered myth," she said as she stepped away from Constance as she rested from my recent feeding. "What happens to her now?"

"She'll wake up, be weak for an hour or two, go to bed I think and wake up tomorrow feeling fine," I said as Sammie took the other chair Heather had brought down. Heather herself had left, but I could hear Brian's heavy footfalls coming down the stairs in the quiet house.

"So, was she writhing in pain or," she asked, stopping as she caught my eye.

I chuckled, remembering Constance's own words on it. "No, in pleasure. Apparently my bite is its own orgasm now, and she loves to get off on it."

"How old is she anyway? And where did you get her?"

"Don't know," I said, shrugging as Brian brought my clothes in in several large cardboard boxes. "I found her on the street hooking for money. I bought her services so I could drink from her and she was back at the corner when I was on my way home. I don't know much about her home life, but I think she was molested."

"Definitely molested," Brian said as he set the boxes by me. "Old man was using her as his private..." he started to say but shut up at my glare. "You get the picture, I take it?"

"Vividly," I said then looked at what could only be half my clothes. "Go get the rest, including my shoes," I said and Brian left.

"I couldn't leave her on the street, and since she had the sweet blood of the learned, decided to keep her around. It's been good so far, and it helps keep me from getting infected by bad blood," I said and she made a curious face at that knowledge. "Yes, we can't get sick, but we can become carriers of disease. Like the recent plague problem they had in LA. Kindred were responsible for that."

"How do you deal with infected kindred?" she asked and I blanched a bit.

"I killed all but one," I told her. "It wasn't that they were unaware that they were doing it, they were modifying it to where it would make zombies out of the infected. Only kindred were immune, and we were the carriers. Even our ghouls got sick and died. So I killed them and destroyed their precious little disease."

"And got paid for it?"

"A full million," I said and she whistled. "Plus, one of the plaguebearers was a woman in my size that had a motel room full of fine clothes and jewelry that I took with me. It also helped with the masquerade because people will just assume she left."

"Great," she said as Heather came back with the make-up kits. She set them up on a nearby dresser, and I watched as Sammie built up the nerve to ask me something. It was clear she wanted to know more about my new world.

"So," she said and I nodded for her to go on. "I guess you don't need to feed again tonight?"

I cocked my head to the side as I thought about the impetus behind the question, smiling to let her know I wasn't offended in any way. Truth was, I was still hungry as Constance didn't have much blood in her that I could skim off. Was Sammie wanting me to feed from her?

"Truth is," I said, slowly working my way the question so I didn't seem to eager, "Constance doesn't have as deep a blood supply in her right now due to the constant feeding. If I keep going at her like I do now, she may develop anemia or something later, so I try to keep from taking more than a pint or so at a time. So, yes, it's not as satisfying as I'd like."

"Oh," she said as she turned her head to look back at Constance, clearly thinking about offering me her blood.

Brian's heavy footsteps on the stairs told me he was about to enter the room. When he came in, Heather was still sifting through the make-up kit as she got ready to prepare me for my day. "Set the box down and leave us, Brian," I said to my ghoul. He did, leaving without making a fuss. Sammie watched him go, before turning her eyes came back to mine.

"They're like ants," she murmured as she watched Brian leave and Heather come over with the make-up and start applying it.

I sat still as Heather worked, my eyes closed or open as she dictated. When she was done, I stood and started to go through the boxes, laying out my clothes for the night. Constance woke up about that time, only moving around on the bed so she could watch us while she laid down.

My clothes for tonight seemed to consist of leather pants, big surprise, another one of those spandex tops and a sports bra. I dressed quickly, but my shoe selection left a lot to be desired. I finally settled on the motorcycle boots Sharron had once given me. I could at least trade them for the boots I had at Sammie's if she wanted to go home.

"Heather, would you mind checking to see if the sun has set, yet?" I asked and my ghoul moved to find out.

"So, still hungry?" Sammie asked as she smiled wanly as she mustered up her courage.

"Sure," I said as I offered her a hand. Taking it, I pulled her to her feet so that she was facing me. She chuckled nervously, and I smiled a toothy smile.

"So what do I, uh," Sammie said, suddenly unsure of what she needed to do.

"Just make out with her," Constance said blearily from the bed. "She'll take care of the rest. Just keep you hair out of the way."

"Oh," Sammie said, as I spread my arms. Sammie stepped into my embrace, and laid her head on my shoulder. I used a hand to move her hair from her shoulder, and she shuddered. I brushed my lips over her neck, feeling the thrumming of her artery as it pumped her life giving blood.

My fangs unsheathed themselves and I bit softly into her neck. Sammie bucked hard into me, her arms wrapping around my waist as I bit softly, her blood seeping into my mouth and down my throat. She moaned as I fed, my slow intake of her blood causing her to writhe in pleasure in my arms.

I kept feeding, my bite going deeper as I fed from my best friend. It wasn't until her blood started to thin that I pulled my teeth out of her skin and licked what little blood off the closing wound. For once I wasn't left supporting my victim, but she was still loopy. I guided her over to the bed, where Constance guided her to sit beside her. I was only now noticing Heather as she stood in the hallway, standing quiet and respectful while I fed.

"The sun is almost set," she said and I nodded my understanding. Soon, I'd be able to show Sammie my beachfront mansion.

"Close the blinds on this floor," I told Heather, who nodded before turning to leave.

It took a bit, but Sammie finally snapped herself out of her funk, moaning in the ecstasy she still felt. "That's a rush."

"Now you know why I stick around," Constance said beside her. Sammie just nodded numbly, her hand rubbing at her neck.

"How about a quick tour," I asked her and she smiled. "First welcome to my room. It's the safe room in the house, but I kind of like it because it keeps me out of sight and mind."

"I guess that's a big thing when you can burn in the sunlight," she said and I nodded.

"One kindred screwed up her life by getting caught on her bed by kine, our word for humans," I said and she looked horrified. "She's okay now, but it was rough on her. I figure it's best for me to stay hidden. Look at what happen when one person noticed I wasn't breathing."

She blushed at that, muttering,"It's just freaky to see you laying there and not breathing."

"You should try posing her sometime," Constance said as she chuckled. "Since she can't see herself in the mirror, I once drew cat whiskers on her while she slept."

"So, still moving in?" she asked as she rose and looked around the sparse room.

"Just started today," I said watching her. "Kind of hard to do the shopping when you can't get out during the day. Still," I said as I looked around the room, "doing the best I can for now."

"I can help them with that," Sammie said as she shook her head at something she found. "I know the stores that sell a better grade of furniture, items that better belong in a house like this."

"We went all over to all the best places," Constance told her. "What more is there?"

"A lot, actually," Sammie said as she opened the new wardrobe. "This piece is good, actually. Real wood. Particle wood might be cheap but it's the real wood that lasts and make people take notice."

"Well," I said as she came back to stand near me. "Monday, you can take the ghouls out for some more shopping."

"Would love to," she said smiling at me. "In fact, I'd love to spend the day with them, see what they're like when you're not around. Maybe ask them some questions about what their life is like now."

"Interested in the other side of my life?" I asked her and she blushed.

"Well, I could definitely use your abilities to influence people to my benefit," Sammie said. "So, what's next?"

=o=0=o=

"Well, that's the house," I said as we stepped into the garage.

"Wow," Sammie said, now that it was just the two of us. "It's a great place."

"Thanks," I said as we moved down the garage to where my Harley was parked. I couldn't help but wince at Heather's car as we passed it, figuring it was another thing I'd have to change. Well, maybe when I see Walsh again I could ask him about replacement cars.

"Wait!" Heather yelled as she came bursting through the door from the house. She was carrying the duster over one arm and my messenger bag and gun holster around her neck. "Do you want these?" she asked as she came to a skidding halt in front of me.

I smiled as I took the gun and belt from Heather, slipping the belt around my waist and putting the holster where it belonged. Heather held the pistol with two fingers, as if she were afraid the gun might bite her, and slipped it into the holster and buckled it in. When I put the duster on, I checked to make sure the sword was still in its sheath, which it was, and fastened the buttons all the way up. With it properly fastened, I reached back for the sword, then the pistol, finding both were accessible.

Turning to Sammie, she giggled at seeing me. "You look like an assassin, or something," she said, trying not to burst into a fit of laughter.

"Considering I have to go break into the Natural History Museum, it's fitting," I said and her mouth dropped. "You know that sarcophagus thing that's been in the news this week? I have to steal it tonight."

"Be careful," she said as I slipped my leg over the Fat Boy and lifted the kickstand.

"I will," I said as she slipped on behind me. "Last thing I want is to die."

"Good," she said as I started the Harley. Heather raised the door for me and I eased out the garage and down the road.

The glow of sunset was fading in the west, and I had my best friend at my back as I rode down Highway One. Life was looking good and soon I'd have my second boon paid to the prince. All I needed to do was sneak into the museum and steal a big box.

Easy peasy. Right?


	29. Chapter 29 - Museum Break-In

Chapter 29 – Museum Break-In

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

After dropping Sammie off at her apartment, I headed for the museum. Thankfully, Sammie had told me how to get to the museum so I wasn't going to get lost and made good time to the museum where I parked out in the parking lot, just west of the building.

I looked up, to see the air conditioning system on the roof in the waning light. I smiled, then jumped into the shadows cast by the large system so that I was standing on the roof. I stepped around the AC system to find the roof access on the other side as I donned a ski mask I had borrowed from Sammie and my old leather gloves. I then pulled my lockpicks and opened the door, heading downstairs to get scared by a velociraptor posed as if attacking.

I pulled my pistol and was about to fire when I realized it was a trick. Still, I approached it cautiously, keeping the pistol ready. A note on the wall, caught my eye and I pulled it off to read it. 'Damned funny! You scared the crap out of the cleaning crew. Now would you put the damned raptor back in its exhibit? Oh, and don't leave your keys lying around or Marshall will fire your ass.'

I tossed the paper aside, and headed through the door, scanning the exhibits near me. Not finding any missing a guest, I headed left to check out those exhibits when I hear the footsteps of a guard coming my way. I ducked into the shadows, covering myself with them and let the guard walk right by me. It was kind of nice, if weird to be so easily overlooked. Once he was past me, I let the shadows go and slipped out and around the corner. Still, no exhibit was missing it's raptor, so I started looking around for a way downstairs. I found one with a T-rex skull over the stairs, and was heading down when I heard a sound like a roar. My ears pinpointed it to the skull, my eyes just barely seeing the glint of the speaker before the sound of running shoes made me vault over the railing to crouch in the darkness under the stairs. Several guards with the guns out checked just about every square inch around me, while I stay cowered in the shadows. I could almost hear Lasombra whisper kill them in the back of my skull, but I refused as I waited it out.

Once they left to patrol other areas, I kept to the shadows as I looked around for the offices. One door was marked Museum Security, which I avoided like a plague. Lord knows I didn't want to just march into their office and say hello. The next door, across the atrium from me, was marked with an authorized personnel only sign. I checked that door, finding it locked so I pulled out my lockpicks and quickly forced my way through.

Inside was a small cubicle setup of four desks, with a door in the back. I checked it, finding it was also locked. I had to try several times to get through the lock, finally aligning the pins in the correct sequence and opened the door to reveal a staircase going down. With the heightened security, I stuck to the wall as I went down, then almost had a panic attack as a guard turned right in front of the stairwell as he waited by the door to the stairwell.

It was a good thing I did, because waiting for me in the doorway was a security guard who had his hand on his holster as he looked around. I backed off, trying to figure out what the best way forward was going to be. If I charged the guards, alarms were sure to go off and bring the local cops. That left me with going in silently, but just how far could I push it? Could I jump through shadows I couldn't see?

I inched back to the railing, and waited for the guard to look away. When he did, I vaulted the railing as silent as a mouse before ducking under the stairway and back out of sight. The area didn't have as much shadow as I wanted as it was lit by a pair of vending machines, but it was out of sight of the guards. I looked past the guard to the shadow on the floor, and pushed my sense of sight into it. I looked around, finding another shadow running along the ceiling. I concentrated, and managed to push my sense of sight into it and was congratulated with seeing the hallway with a green line running down it. I followed a shadow along the wall and soon was looking down a different section, this one protected by camera. I concentrated once more, then jumped into the shadow under the camera, finding myself past most of the guards.

Dropping down, I moved slowly along the wall into an area that didn't have doors large enough to get the sarcophagus inside. Those doors I passed, not wasting my time with searching for miscellaneous artifacts. Besides, the sarcophagus was likely to be under heavy security, which meant likely behind more security guards. Following the green line, I found where it intersected a red one, which ended at a secured door with a keypad. Figuring I hit paydirt, I was just about to pop the keypad apart to try and force it when I heard a guards footsteps coming. I ducked around the corner and used the shadows on the wall to watch him come at me. When he was about to turn the corner, I snapped back to my own eyes and charged him,

He wasn't expecting my attack, and I spun around to plant him hard against the door. It held, but he was knocked senseless and I pressed an elbow into his neck to choke off any cries for help while my hand held his wrist well away from his gun.

"Code," I growled, as I held him there with my potence as he fought me. My chokehold was strong enough to make him gasp, so I backed off the hold and sucked in some air.

"Two-three-five-eight," he breathed, and I quickly thumped him against the door to knock him out, then drug him to a nearby office with a still unlocked door. Inside, I pulled his shoe off and used his laces to bind his hands, then pulled his other shoe and sock and made a makeshift gag. I was about to smile when I realized I had everything I might need, except for the feeling of hunger. I lifted the guard back to his knees, biting his neck as he head lolled to the side.

After drinking him deep, I let him drop back to the floor, then locked the door as I went back to the keypad-locked door and tapped in the code. The door buzzed as it unlocked and I quickly stepped through into the hallway and went deeper into the maze. I found nothing but a single camera as I walked down the hallways, almost laughing at the simplicity of the security here. A drop gate was all that secured the loading docks, which led to a single door past that. The only thing I saw that seemed to be any kind of security was a large window right before the door.

I snuck a glance through the glass, finding a pair of security guards watching the monitors and door, then sighed in frustration. I needed to get past the door, but without knowing what was beyond it, stood no chance of jumping there. Reaching out to the shadows, I pushed my sense of sight to the shadow under the door, but was unable to push my way past it.

Withdrawing back into myself, I then concentrated once again, wondering if I could jump my way under the door when I felt myself shift. I didn't understand what was happening, and as I looked around at myself, found only an ink-like blot upon the tile. Smiling inwardly, I moved through the door, and found my new form slid easily under it to find myself in another hallway, this hallway had a T-junction at the end of a long line of laser beams. A shift in the shadows at the far end gave me pause, and a quick look in the shadows at the far end told me it was a guard leaned up against the wall just out of sight and stretching his aching muscles in an attempt to stay awake.

Pulling back from the shadows again, I looked up with my inky body and started trying to climb the wall. Instead of climbing, I felt like I was floating, with even my sight rising until I was now moving along the tile on the ceiling. My new form raised the tile, and I crept through the ceiling over the wall and was able to slide back into the room across from me, finding myself in some kind of storage room. I dropped back to the ground, sliding out into the middle of the aisle before resuming my human shape.

I looked at my hands, smiling at the new ability I seemed to have, then looked to the door that was the last obstacle, hopefully, to the sarcophagus. I opened to find Beckett noisily sliding the top of a crate off which took the side with it to land with a thump. I removed my mask as I looked at the contents, hoping to find the sarcophagus but instead was a desk. Beckett only looked at it for a second before scoffing at it and coming around to look at me.

"I can't understand why someone would go through the trouble of stealing a box with a very ancient corpse," he said leaning against the desk as he pulled a flask from inside his jacket and sipped it. "This city's not that dull."

"Hello Beckett," I said, addressing the much older kindred. He smelled kind of earthy, but not in a disgusting way. "What are you doing here? Looking for more rumors to discredit?" I snarked, remembering our last encounter.

"Indeed," he said, smiling a bit to show his teeth. "I'd heard of the speculation about the sarcophagus containing an antediluvian and being a portent of Gehenna and it was making me cringe. My guess is that it's a Mesopotamian king. I needed confirmation. Besides, these are the kinds of ridiculous, superstitious assumptions I came here to debunk."

"Antediluvians? Like Lasombra?" I asked, trying to keep neutral.

"Indeed, but no one I know has ever met one," he said, filling in the blanks for me as he went on. "But each of the clans and their bloodlines supposedly trace their origin to an original vampire, an antediluvian. Some swear these grandsires still exist into the present. But then, both kindred and kine believe a lot of strange things."

"Gehenna," I breathed. "The kindred apocalypse when our ancestors rise to eat us."

"I see someone has been doing their homework," he said, again the corners of his mouth tweaking upwards in a smile. "I've found little direct evidence to support it until a few years ago when Zapathasura supposedly rose and began devouring his children. After his alleged death, his bloodline went crazy and they began to kill and devour each other as cannibals. Few survived the ordeal, but it does make me wonder. Either way, humans and kindred are just as capable of managing their own destruction as a deity. A self-realized Gehenna warrants more vigilance than a god-induced one, don't you agree? Such is my argument, which so frequently falls on deaf ears."

I leaned against the door as I took in his words and thought about Lasombra trying to rise again through me. If it hadn't been for being electrocuted awake earlier, I might not have risen at all. "You should believe in it more," I said softly, gathering my will as if it were sands falling through my fingers. "I found Lasombra in the shadows, stuck there."

Beckett's eyes locked on me as he studied my sunken posture. "You aren't lying are you?" he whispered. I nodded, then decided to show him my favorite trick and stepped through the shadow to the desk he leaned against. He immediately jumped to his feet, then whirled as I tapped him on the shoulder. He looked to where I had been to where I was standing now, and I could see his nostrils flare as if he were sniffing. Remembering what Jean had said about Gangrel having a wolf's sense of smell, it was likely he was following my scent and his eyes widened in belief as he figured out I had transported myself here.

"Shadowstep," he breathed as he put the pieces together. "I've only heard of ancillae and elders developing that ability. So unless you diablerized an elder recently," he said as he studied me, trailing off into thought as I sat on the edge of the desk.

"Lasombra is rising again through me," I told him, deciding someone should know. "I found him when I attacked someone with my shadows, and they pulled me in wherever they were sent. He wanted out, so he's using me to rise again."

"I believe you," he said as he continued to study me and my subdued posture. "In cases of diablerie, the diablerized vampire becomes like an infectious body, trying to subvert it's host and use it for its own ends."

"So how does one kick the infection out?" I asked him.

"Usually, as in life, your body rejects the infection. My advice to you is to keep in touch with your humanity, as that seems to keep most diablerists sane even as it costs them their precious peace of mind in the process."

"So, if I'm a good little girl who obeys the rules of society and helps others out, I won't lose myself to this asshat?"

"Should be," he noted for me. "Most of the time, the victim of diablerization isn't strong enough to even survive the process. That said, most of the time even elders can't survive the process. Think of it like a nervous tic, most of the time it's unnoticeable. Then in certain situations, you find yourself succumbing, most of the time unaware of what's going on."

"Thanks, Beckett," I said as I looked around. My mind chewed on what he said, as Beckett himself cocked his head as he turned towards the door.

"Well, my work here's stolen away into the night, think I'll do the same," he said as he walked out the door and closed it behind him. I heard two footsteps before everything became silent, and I figured he went wolf and stole out some way I hadn't seen. I concentrated on my bike, then stepped through the shadows to it's location, just as a large white wolf ran across the parking lot. It howled once as it run, and I smiled at Beckett's somewhat playful attitude.

Settling myself onto my Harley, I grimaced at the thought that I was about to have to deliver the prince some bad news. Well, there's only one way to get through it, and I brought the bike to life and headed for what was sure to be certain death as I knew I would get blamed for this.

I parked in front of the Tower, not five minutes later and went inside. Chunk sat with his head nodding down to his chest, and my boots clicked on the tile as I got closer which brought him awake.

"Ah, 'scuse me," he said, yawning and stretching. "Starting to doze off there."

"Lacroix's expecting me," I said and he nodded.

"Uh say, fruit pie," he said, sounding somewhat unsure as he looked at me with sleepy eyes. "If you're still up in a few hours, why don't you stop by for my break and I'll treat you to donuts?"

"I'd love to," I say, hedging away from the overweight security guard, "But I've got business to attend to. Sorry," I said, mocking a wince but he just brushed it off. "See you later."

"Later, cupcake," he said as I stepped around the partition to the elevators, finding the elevator already waiting for me when I get there. It rose swiftly through the building, and I stepped out into the Camarilla headquarters to find it practically empty. I crossed the lobby to the private elevator and took it up to the top, and entered Lacroix's office to find Lacroix alone in the room as he looked out the window behind his desk.

He didn't turn to face me when I get closer, and I stepped up behind him without a word when he silently began, "The folly of leadership is knowing that no matter what you do, behind your back there's hundreds certain that their own solution is the sounder one, and that your decision was the by-product of a whimsical dart toss," he said, turning finally to face me.

"I pronounce the blast sentence and I soak the critical fallout," he said gesturing to emphasize his words. "I make the decisions no one else will. Leadership, I wear the albatross and a bull's-eye."

I smiled at the prince, even as my stomach dropped into my boot somewhere. What was I supposed to say to that? "I've met few who speak ill of you, sir," I say, and watched his face contort with a grimace.

"I've had my fill of sycophants," he said, as he went to sit down in his chair with a huff, "I need adjutants I can trust."

"While I can't speak for the rest of the city," I stated, hedging my bet with the prince, "My only concern is that you seem to favor one punishment for any crime. Besides that? I'm fine with you as prince."

"Hmm," he said, as he deflated. "My apologies. I've been fielding calls all evening. It's become wearisome," he said, as he steepled his fingers. "The blood hunt on Nines Rodriguez for the murder of Alistair Grout was called early this morning before the sun rose. Rodriguez's execution is only a matter of time. I have lit the fuse," he said, turning to his desk and opening a drawer for a ledger of some sort, "If a war ignites, it's my head they will sharpen the pikes for. At least I can rest easy in knowing that you, my most promising attendant, has relieved me of one encumberance tonight. Do you need assistance bringing the sarcophagus upstairs?"

I slumped, it was now or never. "I'm sorry, sir," I said as I hung my head. "The sarcophagus appears to have been stolen and a desk put in its place."

The prince jumped up at that, knocking his chair back to roll against the windows. "Stolen!"

I nodded, and was about to open my mouth to speak when he continued on. "Stolen?! How? Who would," he said, finally leaning over his desk as he calmed himself down and thought over the situation. "Oh, Gary," he finally said, after a minute of him thinking the situation over. "Gary, you treasonous maggot! I should have anticipated your treachery, sewer rat!"

That name rang a bell in me, and I looked at him as he collected his chair. "Let me guess, he sold the information to someone else who had the balls to steal it from the cops."

"Precisely," the prince chewed out. "I need Gary found, but more importantly, I need that sarcophagus secured. If there is something supernatural within that is capable of escaping and slaughtering hundreds to fulfill its hunger, it is my responsibility as prince to contain and neutralize said threat."

"Yes, sir," I said, standing ready to handle anything he gave me. He looked at me, his features softening as he took in my attire and ready posture, and then grinned.

"Did you have any military aspirations?" he asked, and I shook my head in a silent 'no.' "Your bearing is one I find only in the most dedicated of agents. I like that," he said and I smiled that my subversion was working. I could really care less that he got his precious sarcophagus, but if I could help the Anarchs rip this thing apart, I would.

"I need Gary," he said, biting his tongue from saying killed, and instead said, "found, and the sarcophagus secured. The sarcophagus and its occupant might be, exploited, causing who knows what catastrophe to this city if it were to fall into the wrong hands. The Nosferatu lurk in the filfth below the streets of Hollywood, but not even I know just where they hide. Also, Hollywood is, unfortunately, lacking in any Camarilla loyalties.

"Hollywood's baron is an Anarch named Isaac. Isaac's more civil than the Anarchs in the downtown area, but" the prince paused as he sat back in his chair, "Nonetheless, he wears his distrust of me on his sleeve. He may know how to contact the Nosferatu."

"I'll find him, sir," I said, then turned to walk to the door with no further word when his next words stopped me.

"Before you go, Miss Flores," he said, and I turned back to him, my phone buzzing that I had a text. "You've no doubt formed some inkling of a disdain for me that you can't name. I'll agree that allowing you to live past your trial has been difficult for me as a Ventrue, but I am also willing to look past it as a prince. I'll give you a headstart for tonight, but tomorrow I am going to open the city to a hunt for that sarcophagus. If you can bring me the sarcophagus before sunset Saturday evening, I'll not only call our current boon settled, I'll give you the privilege of siring a childe."

I perked up at that, because it meant that I was one person closer to making myself a primogen. "I'll get right on it sir," I told him as I headed for the door. This time the prince let me leave, and I passed his sheriff on the way in. I squeezed myself against the wall to allow the big brute room as he passed me in the hallway, and I took the elevator down and left the tower.

I sat atop my bike, thinking over my options when I decided I better check my text message. It was from my ghouls, saying they had an emergency, so I headed home. It was still early in the evening, only like eight, when I pulled back in front of the house. There was a strange car parked in front of the house, but the lights were on. I went in, finding Brian sitting on the stairs, the .357 I had given him was hanging with the handle out of the top of his pocket.

"Mistress," he said, as he saw me. "We got a slight problem."

"Name it," I said, hoping it wasn't the Sabbat.

"Some guy followed Heather home," he said and I shook my head as he filled me in. "He got lippy with me, pulled a knife so I tied him up and locked him in the master bathroom. Heather is watching him right now."

"I'll take care of it," I said, then put a hand on his shoulder. "You did good, Brian. Thanks," and the ghoul perked up at that. Brian led me around to the bathroom where Heather sat on the furnished bed watching a door while she chewed on her nails.

"Mistress," she said, acting panicked as she stood as I came into the room. "I swear I didn't mean for him to follow me home. I met him at the liquor store in Santa Monica and he followed me back saying he could make me scream in pleasure. As if," she said, rolling her eyes a bit before hugging herself.

"You know who your mistress is," I said smiling and opened my arms and let the woman get close. Once she was in my arms, I held her, and I swear she was close to tears as she hiccuped in my arms. "It's okay, Heather," I cooed as I held my crying ghoul.

"It's just, you want us to keep things we do a secret and I bring home a guy who's a creep," she sobbed into my shoulder, and I patted her back. I could feel something in me shift, and I felt happy as my ghoul let out her frustration. I didn't know exactly what caused it, but it seemed she had been worried I was going to hurt her for failing me.

"It's not your fault someone followed you home. Next time, if this happens, have Brian deal with him okay?" I said and Heather nodded, finally getting control of herself now that she knew she wasn't in trouble. "Go get some rest, you look tired," I told her and she nodded and headed to her room. Once she had left the room, I went to the door for the master bathroom and opened it. The lights were on, and there was a young guy with brown hair tied up with lots of duct tape to a wooden chair. Even his mouth was taped. I yanked the tape off, much to his dismay and waited for him to get over it while I tried to figure out how to keep him quiet.

"What the hell is this shit?!" he screamed at me. "Let me out, goddammit! I'll kill that motherfucker that locked me in here!"

"You'll do no such thing," I said, as he struggled to get free.

"Psycho-bastard locked me in here and beat me up, hit me over the head and tied me up. What the fuck!" he said, struggling against his bonds. "Who the fuck does that?!"

I nodded, and hoped he was just as afraid of the cops as I was. "If I let you go, will you leave and never come back?"

"Hell no," he said as he struggled again. "My old man's a cop. I'm coming back with the full force of the law and arresting that psycho!"

I shook my head, then slapped the tape back over his mouth and walked back to the door leading into the master bedroom. I was running out of options with this guy, and that left me one. "Brian, would you mind doing some fishing?"

"Sure," he said as he leaned against the door.. "Bass, barricuda, tuna, yellow tail?" I let my fangs slide out, and Brian chuckled. "Shark, my favorite. I'll get the boat," he said as he left. I turned back to the 'snack,' hiding my fangs as I did so.

"I would have let you go if you had just said you'd leave in peace," I told him and his face went white. I grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him to face the large mirror over the sink with my potence, and his face searched the mirror for me. I put my hands on each shoulder, then whispered in his ear. "There's a reason you think we're mythical creatures," I tell him, hearing him scream through the tape. "Too bad this is a lesson you won't survive to learn from," I tell him as I force his head over and bite into his neck. He kept screaming into his gag as I fed, his blood tangy as I swallowed mouth-full after mouth-full. I don't stop until long after the blood thinned and finally quit flowing.

With the kid dead, I let his head hang forward, and shut the door behind me as I left. I can hear footsteps overhead and Heather complaining about having to drive Brian to Santa Monica. I sighed, shaking my head as I spot Constance smiling at me from upstairs.

"Well?" I said, once I had joined her on the second floor of the hous.

"I thought you weren't coming back tonight," she said.

"So, how's your homework?"

"It's done," she said, leaning up against me. "You want to look at it?"

"Not really," I tell her, as I pull her tight. "Why don't you show me which room you chose?" Constance squealed at that, practically dragging me to the far corner on the south-west side. Her room had a great view of the ocean and was close to both stairs giving her great access to the entire house. The only downside was her room was right over the kitchen, which was often the busiest room in the house, and the loudest.

"I checked all the rooms up here, and this one has the biggest closet," she said, showing me the spacious closet where her clothes were already hanging. "I was thinking of a bed or something here," she said, motioning to the interior wall next to the great room, "and putting a desk over here," she said, motioning to the area by the closet. "That way, I have the best view at night when I sleep or when I'm working at my desk."

"Looks good," I say, wrapping my arms around her as she's facing the sea. "You like it here?"

"Oh yes," she said, as I nuzzled her neck. I wasn't really hungry, still stuffed from all the blood I've taken, but I licked at her neck which made her moan as I breathe on the wet spot. She leaned her head over, giving me great access, and I force my fangs out and slowly puncture her skin and start to lap once at her blood. She moans, bucking against me as she enjoys the sensation of me draining her life from her.

I don't take more than a mouthful before I pulled my fangs out of her neck and lapped the remaining blood off her neck to leave it clean. Constance was limp in my arms, and I folded her up where she wanted her bed, and used her bookbag for a pillow. She looked so peaceful then, as I looked down at her, that I went ahead and turned out the light and shut the door to allow her to sleep.

As I headed down the stairs, I couldn't help but think that somehow, in Hollywood, my life was about to get even more complicated.


	30. Chapter 30 - The Fate of Doctor Grout

Chapter 30 – The Fate of Doctor Grout

September 26, 2004 = Saturday

~Doctor Grout~

I sat here, waiting for my own demise. I had little hope left that my Faustian bargain would save me and she would arrive before Prince Lacroix's agent arrived, and that I would perish this very night. I had no idea whom he would send, but my fear was the big brute of a sheriff would be sent to destroy me. He feared me that much.

The voices had guided me in the required mysticism for my particular strain of vampirism, allowing me to place a 'spell' over my test subjects. When, or if, anyone should come to the house against my will their sanity would break and cause them to attack said person. I could only hope that the sheriff would be taken off guard and I could gain the upper hand in our altercation, but I doubted it.

'She is coming,' one of the voices whispered, and I nodded absently as I moved to the balcony where I hoped to meet her.

My first defense was already in place in a skeleton I had acquired from a local cemetery. It lay on my bed, chained and with a wooden peg through it's chest and the ashen remains of a barbecue pit were spread out over the skeleton. If all went well, one would simply cast their eyes on my 'corpse' and walk away, reporting to my hated oppressor that I was dead. I couldn't be so fortunate, but such was my life at the current time.

On the balcony overlooking the parlor, I waited. Several of my test subjects milled about the room, but as they were causing no mischief, I let them be. My eyes were transfixed on the door, my ears listening for any sign that she about to save my God-forsaken soul.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, the door to the hallway beyond opened and in walked my savior, Ming Xiao. She was wearing a gold colored cheongsam, the typical long dress of her Chinese ancestors. Like most Chinese dresses, hers was form fitting and caressed every curve of her body. She advanced slowly, but she dismissed my test subjects with only a glance.

"Doctor Grout," she said, as she stopped some five meters from the balcony, "I believe I am here to safeguard your security."

'She lies,' I heard in the cacophony of voices that assaulted me. 'She wishes you dead!'

I shook my head lightly, trying to dispel myself of their influence. Surely my savior was not here to kill me. I was too valuable as an insider of Lacroix's circle, the secrets I held could be invaluable to ridding myself and the city of his hideous visage.

"You have come alone?" I asked, and she nodded. I might have believed her if not for the voices had not whispered me the names and locations of the five men and the van waiting for me at my own gate outside.

No, I was not to survive this night. I only wished to know why she had decided to betray me.

"So Cai Huan, Yang Jie, Zi Su, Mao Fu and Sun Wu are not waiting to haul me off to the Fu Syndicate building?" I inquired, watching her expressionless face break into surprise as I named off each of her henchmen awaiting outside. She soon steeled herself, and crossed her arms in anger.

"How do you know those names?" she demanded of me.

"My particular clan, Clan Malkavian, has an insight into others," I explained to her. "It's also how I know you are lying when you say you have come to uphold your end of our bargain."

"I see," she said, allowing now emotion to pass across her face. "Such an unusual clan you come from. I have not been able to learn anything of your clan. As such, I will not be carrying out a strict interpretation of my deal with your prince."

I stared hard at her, wondering what my fate would end up being. I had been councilled before to record that tape for the female agent that Lacroix would soon send, and to leave my 'corpse' behind for her to find, but I was hoping for another option to present itself, and I could only move the chess pieces I could see. It would seem Lacroix also formed a relationship with the dreaded Kue-Jin, the Kindred of the East, but the queen he moved to intercept me had her own ambitions.

"So what interpretation of your deal with the prince are you going to carry out?" I asked, as she moved her hand to an item hidden behind her back.

"Only that I remove the problem you are causing him," she said as her hand came out wielding a wooden stake. I had no more turned to flee than she used some unknown power of her people to stretch her legs to slide over the banister. She tackled me, and we rolled once to the large rug in the center of the room. The stake was brushing against my suit, but I was able to hold off the arm.

"Zài jiàn," she said, cracking a mischievous smile as once again her limb stretched. There was no hope of blocking the ensuing attack, and the last I felt was the stake pierce my heart.


	31. Chapter 31 - Entering Hollywood

**Author's Note:** *Steps up to the microphone, clears voice* All you party people!

 _Tag Team, back again_  
 _Check it to wreck it, let's begin_  
 _Party on, party people, let me hear some noise_  
 _DC's in the house, jump, jump, rejoice_  
 _Says there's a party over here, a party over there_  
 _Wave your hands in the air, shake your derriere_  
 _These three words mean you're gettin' busy,_  
 _Whoomp, there it is! Hit me!_

*Looks out and sees nothing* Maybe I waited too long...

* * *

Chapter 31 – Entering Hollywood

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

First thing I had done was head for Hollywood, following the overhead signs to Downtown then back up Highway 101. I was then able to take the exit for Sunset Boulevard, and headed into the lion's den.

I was nervous not sure what would happen when a man stepped into the street. He was rough, and the pale skin that was illuminated under the streetlight told me he was kindred. Riding the brakes hard, I managed to not run him over, and he just crossed his arms like I was wasting his time.

"I haven't see you in Hollywood before," his deep timbred voice proclaimed. Struck as odd by someone who didn't immediately recognize me, I said nothing as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "If I ain't see you, neither has Isaac. Means your next stop is the Golden Age Jewelry store, three more lights and a left. Isaac's office is accessible through the alley on the left. Consider yourself invited."

"Thanks," I said as he got out of my way. He only harrumphed in reply, walking on down the sidewalk. I kicked off, passing several businesses that were still up and running, including what looked like an open air restaurant that was still being setup.

The jewelry store wasn't hard to find, as it was still brightly lit. I parked my bike in the alley, and went into the office. Isaac sat behind a large desk, eyeing a necklace through a jeweller's monocle. The way it sparkled in the minimal light, I could only assume it was made with real diamonds.

"Ah, welcome," he said as he took the monocle out of his eye. "I'm Isaac Abrams. I've been expecting you, neonate. Seems the wooden soldiers of the Camarilla shuffle in a little too often these nights. That baby-faced, two-bit prince Lacroix got something to say to me?" Isaac raised himself as he talked, and I couldn't help but feel like he was trying to put me in my place and start a fight.

I shuffled uneasily on my feet, not wanting to start a kindred war on the prince's behalf. The guy was already kill crazy. "I'm just looking for the Nosferatu clan, more importantly, their primogen, Gary," I said, and he deflated a bit at my honesty. "Seems he angered the prince and I'm supposed to bring him in."

"So, you've come to barter information with the sewer rats?" Isaac said as he almost spat the last. "Lacroix must really be desperate if he's stooped to consorting with their kind, and asking for my help, of all people."

"Any idea where I can find them?" I asked hopefully, hoping he could lead me right to the source.

"Perhaps," he said, then a wicked smile played across his face. "However, before we discuss how I might help you, there is the matter of tribute."

My hopes fell in that I could get this over with fast. Seemed like every kindred I met was going to make me their errand girl. "And what is it you want?" I asked with an irritable growl.

"A tape," he said with a smirk on his face. "Head down to the Ground Zero Internet Cafe and find out how to meet the guy," he said as he wrote down some instructions. "One of the computers will have this login ID, use this password to open it," he said as he handed me the post-it note that also contained an address. "Meet with him and bring back the tape."

"Sounds easy," I said as I pocketed the note. "Do all older kindred like making the newbies dance on their string?"

"Keeps them in their place," he said as he continued to smirk at me. "Live long enough, and you might even be doing it yourself to some newbie that comes along."

"Be back soon," I said as I stepped out the door and got back on my bike. Soon I was pulling up to the internet cafe, it's lights on to tell me it was still open for business. I walked in, finding almost no one inside but a few people who were glued to the screen in front of them. I pulled the post-it note from my pocket, then began looking for the computer with the required log-in information.

I finally found it in a back corner, and used the password to open it up. Checking through the emails in the account, I found one without a subject, and I opened it up. The contents told me to meet the guy in an alley behind the Fast Buck down the street. I deleted the email, more out of habit then anything else, then left the cafe.

I drove to the alley, parking my back near the street. One thing I didn't fear anymore was a thug, so I walked openly down the center, not finding anything till I rounded the corner. The guy I was looking for was smoking a cigarette and wearing a dark hoodie and jeans, and he looked nervous as his eyes darted around the graffiti covered walls.

His eyes found me, and he stammered a bit as he said,"Y-yeah? What do you want?"

"You got the tape?" I asked him, and he went wide eyed. "Isaac sent me."

"Ye-yeah," he started then back tracked himself when a thump came from a nearby garbage can. "I-I mean what? Who the hell is Isaac? I don't know anyone named Isaac. Get lost, wii ya."

That made me angry as I crossed my arms. "Fine," I said as I turned to leave. "I'll tell Isaac you wouldn't give me what's his and you can deal with him."

"Alright, sorry," he said as he turned went to check around the corner. He looked extremely nervous, but it didn't stem from me. "It's just that," he said turning to face me and running a hand over his hair to toss his hoodie back. "I mean something is, I just want out of the whole thing. I don't want anything to do with that damn tape."

"Why?" I asked as he checked the corner again. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't know," he stammered a bit. He looked like someone who had the shit scared out of him, but not a mark marred his clothes. "I mean, when it comes to video, I've sen everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING," he said, emphasizing the last word for effect. "But this thing, this tape? It's sick. I-it can't be real, but," then he turned back to me and I understood. That tape showed something he couldn't explain, and his world was coming apart. "It is, I know it. It's real and it scares the hell out of me."

I put a hand on my hip, slipping a finger under my duster to reach for a weapon if he bolted. He'd already seen too much, and I couldn't risk him breaking the masquerade. "Really?" I said, trying to make him think it was nothing. "Is it that bad?"

"You have no idea," he said as he leaned against the wall. "it's disgusting. That girl, the things that are happening to her? It just ain't right, man. It just ain't right? And now..." he said, his voice trailing off as he checked around the corner again, "Something's wrong, something's after me. I swear to God, something's after me!"

"Just hand it over, and I'll take care of it," I said, holding out an empty hand. This guy was ready to bolt, but since this was Isaac's territory, I'd let him handle his own problems.

"I don't have it," he said as he pulled a pack of cigarette from his pocket. "I stashed it some place. Look, you need to find Ginger Swan's..." he started to say, when a loud crash and a screech metal sounded through the alley. "Oh shit, did you hear that! I'm outta here," he said as he bolted around the corner. I started around to follow, but a blood curdling scream filled the alley. When I rounded the corner, he was gone, but the manhole cover was missing off a sewer access.

I dropped down to see if I could find any evidence of the guy, but there was nothing but a chewed up corpse. I turned to climb out, finding the manhole cover had been knocked aside as it was tossed off its cover. I put it back where it belonged, hiding the man from any casual observer.

With nothing to show for my troubles, I headed back to Isaac. He stood as I opened the door and entered, but he had slight smile as he saw me.

"You made good time! Hand me the tape, I'm anxious to see what the man was talking about."

"He didn't have it," I said and Isaac scowled.

"Did he at least have a good excuse?" he asked me, his smile fading.

"He said something was after him," I said, and Isaac scowled a bit. "He was right too," I added and Isaac cut me off.

"If you," he started but I held up a hand.

"I didn't. Something came out of the sewer and drug him down fast. Nothing left but a chewed up corpse under the manhole cover behind the Fast Buck," I said and Isaac nodded in understanding. "He also said something about a Ginger Swan, but I didn't get all of it."

"Ginger Swan," he said, then hmm'd at something he thought about. "Brings back a lot of memories. Fifty years ago, wasn't a man in this city that wouldn't have given up his family, career, or anything else for one night with her. Hell, even twenty years after she was buried there were still grown men weeping at her grave. I don't know how she's relevant, but I have faith you'll figure it out."

"I'll start with the grave then," I said as I looked to Isaac. "Where was she buried?"

"Hollywood Forever Cemetery. She was laid to rest in a mausoleum vault in the back corner."

"I'll go check it out then," I told him and headed out.

Mounting my bike, I headed down the street, following the signs to the Hollywood Cemetery. The main gate was closed, so I circled around the high wall, finally finding a quiet alley that butted against the wall. I parked my bike behind a parts store, and looked around the alley.

It was pretty quiet, so I vaulted over the head high steel fence and landed on my feet. I ducked behind a headstone as I looked the cemetery over, finding the place wasn't well lit and that even if someone looked in through the gate, I wouldn't be easily seen.

That made me feel over-confident as I walked down the street. So confident that I was startled when a man carrying a rifle walked over a rise and pointed a gun right at me. I fell back, scrambling for my own pistol when he lowered the rifle.

"Whoa there sugarpuss," he said as I finally brought my gun out. "Might want to think about announcing yourself next time. I nearly took your head off."

"Why would you do that," I said, lowering but not putting away my pistol.

"Thought you might be a zombie," he said, which shocked me. "See it's like this. Every night about this time for the past, oh, several months now, the dead've been getting up with an itch to stroll down Hollywood Boulevard. Nobody knows why, but until they figure it out, they needed a volunteer to patch the problem. I stepped forward, problem temporarily solved, baron's happy, and I get to practice my marksmanship and get my blood for another month."

"What's causing them to rise?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Who knows," he said as he looked around for possible zombies. "Could be vampire necro-hoodoo, toxic waste, solar radiation. Important part is: they continue to rise up, and I get to put 'em down. Everybody's a winner."

"Sounds like fun," I said, holstering my pistol. It wasn't hard to get back in, and since ghoul boy wasn't going to shoot me I figured I was safe enough.

"You're telling me. As far as I know I'm the only person around Hollywood who considers marksmanship an art," he said as he brought his eyes back to me. "Plus, a lot of the stiffs around here used to be asshole celebrities too. Bonus."

"So, who puts back in the ground?" I asked and he chuckled a bit at that.

"Morning crew does that," he said. "People just think of it as maintenance on the grounds."

I shook my head. Isaac definitely seemed to have it all together in Hollywood. Maybe that's why the prince stays out. "Well, I have to go find Ginger Swan's grave. Apparently there's a tape there that Isaac wants."

"Last mausoleum on the left, bear left once your inside and it's vault three-oh-four," he said from memory.

That struck me as funny. "Were you a fan?"

"Big fan, actually," he said as he wiped at his eye. "You can still get copies of her movies at the Sin Bin. Best place for smut in Hollywood."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said as I moved past the ghoul. "And good shooting."

"Thanks," he said as he started up the path.

Left alone, I continued down the street to the mausoleum and entered. Some lights were still on, giving just enough light to see the vault numbers. Ginger Swan's vault was easy found and I opened it by pulling on the flower holder. It was odd that it came away so easily, but I found that it was only held in place with a few drops of a rubbery glue.

Searching inside, I found a battered VHS tape just in front of a coffin. Pulling the tape out, I found it had a name marked in masking tape and an emblem of a skulll like mask with tentacles surrounding it like hair that was sticking straight out. Holding it up the light, I read the name as 'Monsters Eat Chick.' Figuring I had the right tape, I took it and put the cover back in place before I left. I didn't see the ghoul on his rounds as I headed back over the wall, so hopefully he was taking care of business.

Hopping back over the fence, I mounted my bike and booked it to Isaac's store. He was waiting on me when I got back, and I handed him the tape. "All this for a tape? They have online shopping now," I told him.

"I didn't doubt you'd find this," he said as he turned to his entertainment center and put the tape in the VCR. "And I apologize if I was overly imperious before, a reflex action. I get a lot of young blood in here forgetting their place. I'll assist you as reasonably as I can with your task but first," he said as he hit rewind. "This tape. I'm in a hurry to find out what's behind all the hype I've been hearing about it. I do have a feeling that whatever's here may be of use to both of us, however."

I sat in one of his chairs as Isaac hit play. The tape TV showed nothing but static for several minutes, then the screen blared to life showing a brown haired woman running up a set of stairs. She was being chased by three creatures compromised mostly of a head and two powerful arms they used for legs. If they were CGI, they were expertly crafted but it was hard to tell with the snow still dancing across the screen. The woman ran through several doors, finally barricading herself in a bedroom. She was crying as she braced herself against the door, the door rattling as the monsters tried to break in.

The view shifted to a further view, showing that there were two more monsters in the bedroom that jumped over the bed and attacked her, ripping her skin from her and tearing her apart. The scene faded, showing the logo on the tape along with some heavy breaths before it ended in snow. A name also appeared under the logo, Death Mask Productions.

I got up, rewound the tape and played it again and began studying it. After my third playthrough of the tape, I stopped it and looked back to Isaac, who had steepled his fingers in thought. He looked at me, and his grim lines spoke volumes. What were we dealing with?

"It's more disturbing than I was led to believe," he said finally. "You can understand my concern now, can't you?

"Yes, and if these things were what drug your mule underground, they are fast, small and deadly," I said and Isaac nodded.

"It just so happens that around the time this snuff film began circulating, the Nosferatu disappeared," he said and I quirked an eyebrow. "That was Friday evening, and not one Nosferatu has been seen since. Not a one. I tried to elicit their help in tracking down the source, and for the first time in all these years, I was dismayed by their absence."

"So you assume this tape and these monsters have something to do with their disappearance," I asked, wondering if I had kicked Damsel in the face for nothing. She would be pissed if that were the case.

"I assume it does, it's awfully coincidental otherwise," he said as he moved to sit back behind his desk. "I don't know how many professional FX houses could pull those off. There's a problem though in that the film's incomplete, the first half is damaged. We need a complete copy."

"And since those monsters are what I need to get past, I need to help you so I can help myself," I thought aloud. Isaac nodded, confirming my thoughts with a smirk on his face. "So where do I find a better copy?"

"Behind the spit-shine of the Hollywood dream factory, there's another city churning out a vile by-product for the furtive consumption of a debauched audience," Isaac said in what I would assume was a Toreador style of talking. "I have no doubt the film's found its way to another smut peddler, so I'd ask around."

"Smut, huh," I said, again thinking of what the ghoul in the cemetery had told me of the Sin Bin. "I think I have a line on that one."

"Good luck in your hunting," Isaac said as I stepped back outside.

I mounted my bike and found a phonebooth, using the phone book inside it to find the Sin Bin. It wasn't too far away, and directly across from another place I'd been thinking of going to visit. Vesuvius Gentleman's Club, home of one Velvet Velour.

I stopped in the Sin Bin's parking lot, mainly because Vesuvius was full and walked over. The bouncer outside gave me a some serious stink eye, but only opened the door and allowed me in. Walking inside, a pretty little lady in pink lingerie sat behind the counter filing her pretty red nails, gesturing me on through with the file.

Walking into the main area of the club, the first dancer I saw was actually leaned up against the VIP entrance as if asking men to take her up on her offer. She looked at me, her smile dropping from her blonde face and going into full panic for all of three seconds before she started to smile again. I looked at her for a bit, then decided to ask her about it.

On my way over, I realized she was kindred. Her skin had paled some, but maintained an almost pink quality about it that fooled me into thinking she was still human. But as I got closer, I could see tell it was somewhat too light to be normal. She was dressed in a red and black silk bustier, red thong and black thigh high fishnet stockings while standing there in pair of 6 inch spiked heels with no platform under the toe to help alleviate the stress her foot must be under.

"Oh! Look what just walked in," she said, wrapping an arm around me and getting close enough to press her glitter covered chest against mine. "I can't imagine you'd get much of a rise out of Vesuvius, being what you are," she crooned in my ear. "Maybe I'll have more luck with you in the VIP suite, where we can...be ourselves," she said, smiling her prettiest at me.

"Sure," I said, and she untangled herself from around me and pulled my hand so I followed her into the area marked VIP. I started up the steps, with her beside me when she flicked some sort of switch that turned off the lights on the stairs. I figured it must be some sort of signal that the room was taken and shrugged it off.

The VIP room turned about to be a lava themed room with a private stage for the dancer to dance on. I could tell she put a lot of effort into her VIP area, and looked at some of the photos of dancers on the wall, figuring they must have be the current crop of candidates VV kept as entertainers.

VV sat on the couch, right in the middle, and patted the area next to her. I sat there, and immediately VV curled up next to me, again getting intimately close with her arms around me.

"Isn't this better?" she purred in my ear, her voice soft and low and sultry and...

'Oh for pete's sake!' I thought as I forced myself not to fall for her charms as she rubbed at my soft skin. 'Damn Toreadors are such seductresses that they can make just about anyone fall for them.'

"You and me, alone," she continued, doing her best to play the lover card, "For just a little while? Away from the Jyhad, the nonsense, and the dangers. Just the two of us. Mmmm?" she said, purring each word into my ear.

I knew she had likely felt the sword on my back as her arm was around my back but she gave it no mention or thought. I just crossed my legs and looked at her, taking in the silvery eyes and strawberry lipstick. "You asked me up here?" I said and she nodded.

"The reason I asked you up here is because I, and the rest of the Hollywood kindred, have been under surveillance lately by hunters," she said, dropping the lover card a bit but not uncurling herself from around me. "At first I thought you had come for me, but then I realized who you were when I saw the pale skin. I asked you up here because I didn't want you to say anything that might draw attention."

"Well, thanks for that," I said and she smiled. "Are you Velvet Velour?"

"I am," she told me. "You can me Velvet. It's been months since I've seen anyone new in here. I was starting to take it personally. And who should come in but a real celebrity. You're quite the talk in salons. So much so, that I've already heard a lot about you," she said as she smiled playfully at me. "So, uh, wouldn't you like to know about me?"

"I know a bit already," I said and she giggled. "I know you're trying to recruit Angel from down at Four Play."

"Yes," she said, her angelic face frowned a bit. "But Duke keeps sending my boys back empty handed. This last time, he broke poor Lenny's hand. Poor dear probably won't help me again for months."

"So you don't use ghouls?" I asked her and she shook her head before leaning hers on my shoulder.

"Oh, I do," she said, her finger making circles over my stomach. "Most of us have at least one. Mostly I use mine as a bouncer, you met him outside."

"So that's why he allowed me in when I look like a hunter," I said. Velvet nodded, then added, "He probably saw your skin and realized you weren't a threat. He's been trying his best to keep the hunters out of my club for me."

"You've had hunters in your club?"

"Up until a week ago, I had one working for more," Velvet said, and I looked down at her as she continued on in a sad tone. "They've been staking out Hollywood for several weeks. They've been in Ash's club, mine, a few others. I think they're whittling down their list of suspects. The one I had here was keeping an eye on the clientele. I found a weapon in her locker and fired her, but she's still in Hollywood, watching my club, and me."

I stared at her as she kept tracing circles on my stomach, and she finally looked up at me, the sadness evident in her eyes. "I know it's difficult to accept," I said, the hurt look in her eyes deepening, "But you may have to kill her."

"I've had to adjust a lot to this existence," she said, her silvery eyes staring into mine. "And I've accepted that I may have to do just that. But I'm a suspect, and if she ends up dead and I'm seen, they'll either kill me, or chase me into obscurity."

"Maybe I could get rid of her for you," I said and she smiled. I had the brief idea I was being played, but what did VV really get out of this?

"Would you? I think it might be a little much to ask," she said and it clicked. Yeah, I was being used, as an executioner. VV got the opportunity to keep her hands clean as she was probably a 'lover, not a fighter' and I would get to face a hunter, a hunter who was probably as lethal at hand to hand combat as me.

"Depends," I said, figuring this was just a ploy by the Toreador to get me to take care of her problem for her. "What are you offering?"

"I've got a girl, Misti," she said, pointing to a poster on the wall marked with the dancer's name, "She's divine and a willing blood doll for the right amount of money. I'll set her up for you, my treat."

"I already have a blood doll," I said and Velvet looked up at me. "Her blood is as sweet as honey and she loves to give it all to me."

"Then what would you want?" she asked me.

"Information," I said and she smiled at that. "I recently acquired Four Play, and I need to know a few things about how to run a club like this."

"You handle that hunter," she said, smiling to light up her whole face, "And I'll tell you everything I know about running a club."

"Deal," I said and VV giggled. "Where can I find her now?"

"She works over at the Sin Bin now," she told me as she rolled over to lay in my lap. "Her hair's blonde on top, broken heart tattoo on the small of her back. Dances in the peepshow under the name Chastity, as if that wasn't a dead giveaway.

"I want you to understand," she said, her face growing serious as her smile faded. "I don't want any innocents killed on my account. So if there are other dancers or patrons around, you'll have to lure them away from her. Do it as quietly as you can. No witnesses, please. And be careful using disciplines around the hunter."

"This won't take long," I said, giving her a brief smile. "I'll be back in a bit."

"I'll be waiting," she said as she sat up and allowed me to rise.

She didn't join me as I left, just laid back on the couch in a provocative pose. I stepped down the dark steps and back into the club, getting eyed by a guy in a dark suit. He was drinking alone, and I flashed him a smile as I passed and left by the front door. The bouncer ghoul was still standing by the front entrance, and gave me a wave as I walked by and crossed the empty street.

Entering the Sin Bin was easy. No bouncer or patron blocked my way. It was also somewhat more quiet, the only sounds I could hear were music coming from the basement. Behind the counter was a man in a 70's style suit with a cheesy moustache. It screamed cheap, and I assumed he was at least the manager.

"Heya hotpants," he said as smiled lustfully at me as I walked up.

"Keep it in your pants," I muttered, not liking the way he was eyeing me. It was men like him who thought of women as things to be conquered and owned.

"Hey hey," he said defensively, raising his hands to show he was unarmed. "Sounds like you're a little pent-up. You came to the right place for that problem?"

"Oh?" I asked him. "You got the answer to everything in this store?"

"Pretty much," he said, smiling a bit. "Anything you want, you can get here at the Sin Bin. 'Depraved' ain't a four letter word here, if you know what I mean."

"Then maybe you can help me out," I said and he smiled at me lustfully again. I so wanted to pull him over the counter I had to fight not to actually do it. "I need to find Death Mask Productions."

"Those guys?" he said, his smile dropping as he talked. "Ye-yeah I heard of 'em. Why do you want to know?"

"I'm looking for a tape they made and I'm trying to find out if it's real."

"You mean THE tape," he said, his mouth hanging open as he looked at me. "You've got a copy of it? Have you seen it?"

"Yes," I said and he shook his head lightly. "What of it?"

"Look, just get the hell out of here, alright?" he said, moving around the counter as if he could throw me out. "I don't want no part of that scene. I hear people seein' that tape ain't been comin' home for dinner. I don't deal in that kind of snuff anyway, so just take it somewhere else."

I grabbed him by the lapels and lifted him with my potence. "I'm not going to ask you twice. Tell me how to find DMP."

"Okay, okay," he said, getting scared as he realized he was a foot off the ground by someone half his size. "All I know is that a guy calls on the pay phone down the street at the Shell when the watch starts a new hour. He'll say something like, 'The moon is a terrible mistress' or some creepy shit like that and then all you have to say is 'Who walks the night with demons of dread.' Supposedly, you'll be told where to meet the guy to buy a tape. I don't know for sure. I never tried it."

I dropped the man to the floor and watched him as he sprawled out. "Thanks for the info," I said as I went downstairs following the signs for the peepshow.

I'd never actually seen a peepshow before, and was puzzled at the four doors on the right in a line. I checked the first one, finding it locked. I picked it quickly and quietly, finding that it led into a dressing room. I checked the second door, finding it occupied by a guy in a suit. I closed the door on him before he noticed me. The third one was empty, and the fourth one had a security guard in it.

Picking up a coin I found outside the third booth, I slipped in to test the mechanism. After feeding it the coin, the cover over the window rose and I could see into the room beyond. Chastity was dancing far enough back I could see her broken heart tattoo. There was another woman in the room also, who came over and danced in front of the window. The window didn't stay open long, and I left the room when it closed.

Looking around the room, I needed to find a way to make people leave. Looking at the coin changer, I pulled my lockpicks and opened it up, taking the bills out of it and unhooking the internal wires so it wouldn't work. I then went through the first door, marked manager, finding it was the office. It had a computer on the desk, and I sat to it.

The main menu options included one for 'peepshow,' so I accessed it with the password 'sinner' that I pulled out of the keystroke log. It showed window one as being unavailable, but the other two as being operational. I locked them down, and could hear one of the guys start cussing. I left the office, waiting in the corner as the man in the suit came out, muttering under his breath.

I went back down to the last door, finding that the security guard was watching the still open window. Swinging the door open wide, he turned to face me. "Excuse me, sir," I said, trying to sound sweet as he closed the barn door. "We need to shut down the peepshow for an hour or so," I lied.

"Aww, well," he said as he looked at his watch. "I need to go anyway, good while it lasted."

"Thank you, sir," I said as he left down the hall. "And come again."

He just waved as he went up the stairs. I smiled as I checked the dressing room, finding the other dancer leaned up against the wall, smoking a cigarette. She wasn't a good looking woman, track marks up one arm giving evidence to her habit. I slid the door between the peepshow room and the dressing door room closed as I pulled two of the twenties from the coin changer out of my pocket and held them up to the dancer.

"Take this, and make yourself scarce for a bit," I told her.

"I'll be in the pleasure palace if you want me," she said in a bored voice.

I watched her go down the hall, going into a room across the hall. I went down to the door, closing it almost all the way before reaching in and using my potence to rip the handle off the inside of the door. Dropping the handle in the trash, I went back into the dressing room and pulled my pistol from my holster.

Opening the door, I entered to find Chastity leaned against the back wall, also smoking a cigarette. She went ashen as she saw me, pulling a katana she had hidden in the folds of the room's curtains. I pulled my pistol, and I saw the fear in her eyes. She knew she couldn't cross the room without taking a bullet or three from me, but I could see the hatred in her eyes.

She finally darted to the side, arm already winding up for a swing. I didn't give her a chance as I lined up my first shot and shot her in the chest. She buckled and fell to the floor, her katana clattering across the floor. I lined up my pistol as she struggled to regain her feet, but her legs weren't moving. Squeezing the trigger again, I put one more in her, ending her life as my bullet tore out her brain.

Leaving the mess, I went out the back and holstered my pistol. I had followed VV's orders about how to kill Chastity, so now it shouldn't be a problem on collecting my payment. I went back to Vesuvius to collect.

* * *

 **Author's Note, Supplemental:** Hey everyone. Glad to be back. You know, if I had a dollar for all my failed plans, I'd be Batman. Or at least Bruce Wayne. A very fat, miserable, Bruce Wayne. I intended to be back earlier this month, but my job got suddenly very busy. To that end, I can't guarentee an upload schedule, so I'll be cranking these out as fast as I can.

Also, please feel free to re-read the earlier chapters. I've updated everything. Also, since I changed how one chapter went, merging it with another, I added a chapter. The new chapter is the last one, chapter 30. It's not very long, but I hope you like it.

But, for the time being, I'm baaaaaaaaccccccccckkkkkkkkkk.


	32. Chapter 32 - Monster Mash

Chapter 32 – Monster Mash

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

VV was still posing on the couch when I returned. She sat up, patting the seat beside her where I sat down. As soon as I was seated, she slid herself across my lap, curling herself around me and preventing me from moving. Taking advantage of the situation, and for the sole reason to have something to do with my arms, wrapped my arms around VV's petite body.

"The hunter?" she asked, her silvery eyes locked on to mine.

"Dead," I told her. VV didn't flinch, but her eyes were intense as she stared into mine.

"And the innocent?"

"There were none," I told her and she stared into my eyes for a few seconds more before breaking eye contact. She curled up on my chest, a soft purr of contentment coming from her.

"If we'd never taken the paths we did in life, coud we have grown fond of each other?" she asked out of nowhere. I didn't know how to respond, but she continued on anyway. "A shame you had to take her life, but you've saved mine, and I won't forget that."

"I don't much like killing," I told her, getting a soft hmm in response as if she fully agreed with me, "But she would gladly kill us all if she could."

"Indeed," she said agreeing with me. "Hopefully, though, I'll have some lovely young kindred by my side to protect me."

"I'll do my best, Velvet," I said, and she looked up at me and smiled.

"Call me VV," she said, smiling as she said it. I might protect her, but I'd also somehow make her pay for it too. I felt her muscles tense a bit, but the smile never fell from her face.

"VV," I said, correcting myself. "So about the club situation..."

"Yes," she drawled, making it almost like a purr in my ear.

"How do you sort the girls into those that will draw men, and those that won't?" I asked her, getting a chuckle back.

"That's why I'm so interested in Angel," she said. "I know she makes Duke a lot of money, and she has the looks that men are interested in, so my work is mostly done. What Duke does, that I don't do, is break girls into this business. Every girl at Vesuvius is a proven professional, while most of Duke's are just starting out and have no clue about dancing, exotic or otherwise."

"Oh," I said, thinking it over. It was a valid point, and maybe I had to talk to Duke about that. "So, what if you have a girl that isn't make money, anymore. What do you do then?"

"I have one girl, Ginger, who's getting past her prime," she told me. I hmm'd, and she continued on. "The important thing is to keep in mind an amount for each to girl to make you every night, keeping in mind that not every night is the same. She barely makes the cut, but as long as she does, I'll keep her on. When her time comes that she can't make my cut anymore, I'll have to let her go, even though it breaks my heart. That's the trouble with this business, you can't get too emotionally attached. It can take you down."

"So what will you have her do after her time dancing?" I then asked.

"That's the where the part about emotional attachments come in," she said, and it made sense. "We can't protect the kine their whole lives, and it's a threat to the masquerade if we stay around them too long. Let them come and go, and live in the moment, for that's all we have. This moment," she said, rubbing her heels suggestively against my leg, "here now."

"So, would you consider breaking in a girl to dancing?" I asked, trying to keep our conversation on topic.

"No," she sighed. "It's a terrible thing, and I don't have the heart for it. Breaking a girl to this is the worst thing you can do to her, it takes a certain light out of them, a light they'll never get back."

"Sounds like you had experience," I said, noting the sadness in her words.

"I did," she said, and I held her tight against me. "And I won't do that to another human being."

"Me neither," I said, getting a smile from VV. "I ghouled Duke a few nights ago, so he won't be bothering the girls again. I'm just trying to figure out how to run a club so the girls aren't harmed but we can still make money."

"Very noble," she said, giving me a peck on my cheek. "I wonder if I might get your help with another problem."

"Another hunter you know about?" I asked but she shook her head.

"Poor, poor David Hatter," she said and I looked down at her lithe body. "David Hatter's an aspiring screenwriter and hotel manager. He comes in more often than he would admit, several years now. Poor dear just can't get a break. I overheard him talking about his new screenplay with one of my girls. It was about secret societies and creatures that found themselves dealing with inner beasts and persecution by elder monsters," she said, then looked up into my eyes and laid her head on my shoulder, her strawberry lips inches from my chin. "Sound reminiscent of something to you?"

I nodded my head, my lips brushing hers because she was so close. "It's about kindred," I said.

"The details of his story were too insightful to be coincidental. I think someone's working with David, a kindred who doesn't realize the consequences of their actions. Do you know the penalty for revealing ourselves to kine is?" she asked, her voice still low and sultry but I think that was just her normal way of talking. It also carried a pain in it that cried at my soul, wanting me to help her even though my brain screamed I was still being played.

"With Lacroix in charge, they'd be looking at their own beheading," I said, the words making VV flinch with their honesty.

"I'm afraid poor David's big break, the screenplay he's worked so hard on, must be destroyed and his less than silent partner must be," she said, pausing at the last word as if she didn't want to say it and make herself accessory to the fact.

"Killed?" I said and she nodded her head.

"I know David too well, I'm very fond of him, and I'm too close to do what needs to be done," she said.

"You want me to just destroy his screenplay?" I asked her.

"I don't think David knows his collaborator is kindred," she spoke almost in my ear. "You'll have to take David's screenplay, and somehow, you'll have to coax the name of his source out of him. Once you've found out who, kill," she said, the last word almost a sob, "the traitor, but do not touch David."

"And what do I get for this little favor?" I asked her. She looked up at me again, but my eyes fell just south of her chin to her neck and the little silk choker she wore. Something in me wanted to bury my fangs in her neck and suck her blood out like I had Damsel, and it was a feeling I had to force myself to not follow.

VV must have noticed my view had drifted south, but she didn't know I was looking at her neck and not her chest. "I promise you can have all of me once all of this is over."

I looked into her eyes, seeing the promise that was there and nodded my assent. "David works at the Luckee Star Motel. He's very passionate about his writing, and loves to talk about his craft. I'm sure he'll talk about his screenplay. It may take some persuasion to get him to ive up his collaborator's name, however."

"I'll sort it out," I said, hugging VV close as I used my potence to lift her as I stood. She giggled as I found my feet, and I lowered her to her spiked heels. "And you can tell me about the club scene when I get back."

"I promise you'll have my full attention when you return," she said, smiling as I slipped down the stairs.

I went back out to my back, finding a few police cars at the Sin Bin as the processed the crime scene I left behind. No one looked twice at me, dismissing me as they noticed I came from Vesuvius, and obviously not their killer. I could smile at the simplicity of it and headed down the street to the gas station. I parked under the awning, filling the tank on my bike with a few dollars in gas when I heard a phone ring. I checked a nearby clock, finding it was time for DMP to call the payphone, so I ran over and picked it up.

"The moon is a mysterious mistress," I heard a deep voice say.

"Who walks the night with demons of dread," I replied, hearing a quick chuckle.

"Luckee Star Motel, room 106," he said then the line went dead.

I laughed, knowing I can kill two birds with one stone. I went inside to pay for the gas, finding a young kid with long brown hair sitting behind the register. A quick look around told me that we were alone, so I walked up to the counter.

"S'up," he said in a somewhat bored and stoned out voice. "Welcome to the Red Spot, home of the Monstro-Chug, seventy-two ounces of your favorite blah blah blah. You need some help or something?"

"Pump three," I told him.

"Three twenty-five," he said after ringing it up. I paid him, noticing his guitar case behind the counter.

"You play?" I asked, and he smiled.

"Totally," he said, becoming slightly more animated. "You should come out and see my band, Ebola Cereal. We're playing tomorrow night at the Crematorium. No cover for chicks. We're gonna RUIN the place."

"I'd love to be in on that," I said with a smile. "Anything else going on in town?"

"Yeah!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air. "The Vesuvius rocks! They don't let me in anymore, but damn, the girls in there…"

"Bare naked models?" I asked and he nodded emphatically.

"Totally," he said, in a tone only a California stoner could do. "Hey, you should REALLY ask me about the special."

"Okay, I'll bite," I said, giving him a somewhat toothy grin. "What's the special?"

"I'm glad you asked that, baby," he said, bringing up a duffel bag from behind the counter and opening it up. "Seeing as how you look, trustworthy or something, I got this special where you buy some really expensive burritos or Grapple juice, you get a free weapon of your choice. Interested?"

"Sure," I said, looking inside.

Most of it was ammunition, a few other things including a shoulder holster like Jean wore, and one pistol. I pulled it out, and inspected it. I remember seeing one just like it once before, Jean had one, but I hadn't touched it. Inspecting it now, I found it was so similar to the thirty-eight I already knew how to use it.

"How much for the forty-four?" I asked him, clicking the drum into place and testing the weight of the piece. It only weighed a few pounds, maybe a pound more than my Glock, but the trigger stuck out further. Pulling the trigger back a bit, I was surprised to see it start cocking and rotating the drum. Letting off the trigger, I dropped the hammer back gently and turned to the clerk.

"Five hundred," he said with a smile on his lips. "I'll even throw in the shoulder rig it came with and a box of shells."

"Deal," I said, laying the pistol down and pulling out the wad of money I had taken from the Sin Bin's coin machine. It took it all, but I had enough to get the pistol.

I slipped my messenger bag and duster off, doing my best to hide the sword hidden in the duster, but the clerk didn't take notice of the thunk the supposedly all cloth duster made when I set it on the counter. The shoulder holster was simple, a cloth strap like affair that resembled a harness with a latch in the front.

After adjusting it to be tight, I slipped my new forty-four into place, finding it stayed snug on my side with the handle just under my lady. Slipping my duster back on, I found the gun was so well hidden, it didn't even show, but pulling it required I leave the top buttons open. I pulled the gun out, using bullets from the box of shells to load the gun up full, stashing the rest of the shells in a duster pocket and throwing away the box.

"Thanks," I said as I sauntered back out to my bike. I had a few things to do, and quickly headed down the street for the Luckee Star Motel, finding it with no trouble since I'd passed it on the way to the Sin Bin. The lot was full, but I parked next to the entrance since I didn't plan to stay long and walked in.

David Hatter sat behind the counter, a brown haired guy in a dirty white and black windbreaker. He looked lonely as he sat there, scribbling in a pad and often chewing on the end of his pencil in thought. He looked up and noticed me, then shook his head before going back to his writing.

"No vacancies," he said in a completely bored tone.

I walked over and looked at what he was scribbling but he quickly blocked my view with his arm. I saw enough to know it looked like some sort of screenplay, and I smiled at him. "You a writer?"

"Writer's is such a tarnished term, you know what I mean?" he said, in a high pitched voice. "It's like, like every other guy says he's a writer, right? You write a letter, you're a writer, you know? I-it's like, what I do," that's like screenwriting, like, I encapsulate the essence of excellent film in my scripts, alright? Like, I'm a, a," he said, stuttering for a word as he snapped his fingers, "blacksmith with pens, right? I'm a welder of montage."

"What do you write?" I asked him, giving him a smile and leaning over the counter a bit but keeping my eyes glued on his.

"Does a writer write, or does he just ink the flotsom and jetsam floating in his subconscious into a hundred-twenty page piece of film genius?" he asked, avoiding the question. I give him a curious glance to let him know I wasn't buying it, and he stammered on. "But, y-y-you know, most of my subconscious is filled with old horror films, so that-that's what I write mostly, I guess."

"Like vampire films?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Me? I'm like, looking to redefine the vampire movie, okay? Like tons of people make vampire flicks, popular characters, but me I'm gonna be doing the real deal. Like, not only is it going to be scary, but it's gonna be like, it's gonna be believable."

"How do you make vampires believable?" I asked, and he rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Well, in my story, it's not like about garlic and bats, it's about vampire societies and stuff," he said, and I nodded my head for him to keep going. "Like, what would vampires be really all about? How do they blend into society without being discovered."

"Well," I said, giving him a wan smile as I looked once at his pad to see it was mostly character dialogue between to names I didn't recognize, "I have a friend in the movie industry that's always looking for a good script. He'd love to look your screenplay over. Have a copy on you?"

"A friend, huh?" he said, sounding somewhat skeptical. "And what's his name?"

"Isaac Abrams," I said, and Hatter's mouth fell open. "I'm supposed to meet him in a bit at his jewelry shop to talk about his upcoming film."

"You know Isaac Abrams? He's like a legend in this town!" he said, then bent under his desk to reach something.

"He can be a bit of a dick at first, but if you show him the proper respect, he'll treat you right," I said when Hatter came up with a bundle of pages in his hand.

"Man, that's fantastic!" he said as he showed me the screenplay. "I'll give you my only copy of the screenplay if you promise to keep it safe and show to Mister Abrams. Hopefully he'll like it."

"Sure," I said, taking the screenplay from him. "Did you have any help writing it or any collaborators?"

"I really can't talk about it," he said, grimacing a bit. "He likes his privacy."

"Don't you think he wants to be famous too?" I said, smiling and turning on my presence to influence the sap. "I mean, who doesn't?"

"Okay, okay," he said, getting a bit nervous, but smiling to show it wasn't directed at me. "Guy calls himself Julius. Don't know if he has a last name or what it is, but he lives under the Santa Monica Pier. Weird guy, weird guy, but really creative, you know? I love how his mind works."

"Thanks," I said, tucking the screenplay into my messenger bag. "I have to go see a friend here for a moment, make sure they're staying sober," I lied, hiding my meeting with DMP, "But then I'll go see Isaac about this."

"Thanks," he said, going back to his pad.

I went out the door, finding it was like a backwards motel in that the doors had outside access, but the doors were all protected behind a fence and night clerk. Piss poor excuse for security it seemed, as I saw one girl that could only be a hooker in her fishnets, tight mini and tube top. I headed over to DMP's room and knocked, and didn't get an answer.

I pulled my new magnum out and used my potence to bust the old lock, and entered the motel room. Blood painted the floor, especially in the back where the bathroom was. The door leading to the tub and toilet area was shredded, giving evidence to the little monster that was becoming the bane of my nights.

I looked the room over, finding a row of tapes in the drawers. I searched each drawer, not finding one marked 'Monster Eats Chick' in the mix. I instead took one of each that they did have, though their titles weren't the most revealing or sounded even close. It was only when I was about to leave that I noticed a key ring under the bed. I pulled it out, finding it only held three keys. One was marked 'Internet Cafe' with 'Ground Zero' on the other side.

Taking the key, I left Luckee Star and gave Hatter a cheerful wave as I passed by, not wanting to impicate myself in any crime. I took my bike back down the internet cafe, going in the front way. Pulling the key out, I checked it against the back door marked 'employees only' but it wasn't locked to begin with.

The door behind that one though, was, and I unlocked it with the key and stepped through to a stairwell. A sudden feeling of unease hit me. If those little monsters found the motel room, did whoever sent them find this place as well?

With that thought in mind, I pulled my magnum out and cocked it, proceeding slowly up the stairs. The door at the top of the stairs started to bang in its frame, and I aimed for the door. I was almost to the top when the little devil burst through the door, a loud howl announcing its arrival.

It was far faster than I thought, and I no more had my pistol lined up then it jumped for me. I ducked, my shot going wide as my target ended up leaping over me to the bottom of the stairwell. I fell on my backside as I twisted to get the target back in my gunsights, slipping a few stairs down in my haste. The little monster acted confused for a minute, and I put one into it's brain just to watch it explode in a ball of blood and viscera. I held my gun on the remains for a second, before reloading the magnum and going back up the stairs.

I followed the gun into the improvised studio, hammer back in case any more of those things showed up. A naked lady cowered against the wall to my right, tears streaming down her cheeks as she stared at the far wall. A monster suddenly leaped towards her, and I began yanking the trigger back as fast as I could to kill it before it landed on its next victim.

One of my bullets hit it, causing it to explode before it could reach it's target, saving her life but a noise in the back of the studio yanked my attention as another monster chased a man from around a corner, catching and shredding him with what had to be potence-like strength.

I aimed my magnum at it, firing once but it just went click. The monster noticed me, leaving its now dead victim to charge at me. I dropped the magnum, reaching under my duster as time seemed to slow and the monster hung in mid-air. I grabbed my katana, pulling the sword and getting into a ready position just before the monster reached me. With a solid swipe, I cut the creature's leg off as it sailed past me and it landed and rolled once before exploding.

Holstering the katana, I went over to the surviving woman, who still stared at the wall opposite us. "Hey," I said, snapping my fingers in her face. She finally jerked her face to me, but the fear was evident in her eyes. "Get out of here," I yelled, and she bolted for the ruined door, not even bothering to find something to cover herself with.

I picked up my magnum, reloading it and stashed it back in its holster. It packed a punch, but it took too long to reload and only carried six shots. I reached under my duster and pulled out my Glock, hoping the smaller pistol would work better on these fast little monsters.

Heading through the studio, I checked all around me for more of those monsters. They were too fast and lethal not to be taken seriously. It also afforded me a chance to see more of the studio, each of it's little 'rooms' showing a different setting; a motel room, possible bedroom, dining room, and a dumpster surrounded by wooden 'brick' paneling to resemble an outside scene.

I was just about to turn my back on the dumpster when a monster jumped out of the dumpster, it's scream my only warning as I spun and fired several shots into it's forehead as it leaped at me. Changing the clip, I continued on, finding another door in the back next to a scene with a stuffed zebra and some potted plants.

I opened the door, finding myself in a hallway that had windows along one wall, showing a storeroom full of tapes and the equipment to make copies with. A man stood at a table, oblivious to what was going on around him. I had just found the door when one of the monsters burst through a vent. I brought my gun up, hoping I wasn't dealing with bulletproof glass as my first shots ripped.

Damn little monsters were too fast though, as the one in the room made short work of the guy inside, loud techno music assaulting me now that the glass was shattered. I kept firing, eventually killing the monster and covering the area with blood and splattered meat. The windows had that built-in mesh designed to keep intruders out. I tried the door, but it was locked with an electronic lock I couldn't pick.

Heading around the corner, hoping to find someone with an access card, and found a door with DMP scratched into the hard wood. 'Bingo,' I thought as I went through and found myself in a dungeon from hell. Two of the creatures stood scratching and eating at a woman on an improvised rack. I stashed my Glock in a pocket, pulling my magnum out and taking careful aim.

I exploded one over the girl, the other taking notice and screeching as it turned to face me. I forced myself to be calm, thumbed the hammer back and took careful aim as it raced for the stairs up to me. I held my aim, waiting for the overly fast and brainless creature to hit the wall, which it did. Momentarily stunned, I had the perfect shot, and I blew into a bloody mess.

I reloaded the magnum, not wanting to take a chance on needing the hard hitting weapon and not having enough bullets in it. I then stashed it back in the shoulder holster and reloaded my Glock's clips. Glock in hand, I went down the stairs and looked at the familiar face of the woman that had been tied up in the dungeon.

I found I knew her, one of the hookers I had fed from while I was on probation in Santa Monica. Leaving the corpse behind, I went through the small room which dead ended in a utility closet.

"Damn," I muttered, slightly angered at not finding anybody alive.

One of the boxes moved slightly in the corner, and I brought my gun up and fired, thinking I was about to get ambushed. A guy in a gray tank top and red bandanna burst out from under the boxes, scrambling almost on all fours as he tried to get by me in a blind panic. I reached down with a hand and grabbed him by his tank top and threw him back against a shelf, pointing my Glock in his face.

"Oh, Jesus, man," he nearly screamed, tears coming from his eyes as he stared at my gun, almost going cross-eyed from it being so close to his nose. "What the, what the FUCK is going on up there? Huh? Don't make any noise, th-they'll hear us."

"You DMP?" I asked him, voice stern as he was likely my only source of information.

"Y-Yeah," he started to say, before finding his brains and shaking his head. "I-I, uh, mean, n-no," he said, then I stuck the Glock on the end of his noise. "Aw, fuck it! Yeah, I with DMP. You five-oh?"

"What the hell is going on?!" I shouted at him, giving him a shake to keep his attention on me. "Those are the same creatures on your tape!"

"Yeah, yeah, I-I know," the guy said, terror evident in his eyes, "but we didn't make that shit. Uh, one of the guys stole it, f-found it in the creepy house in the hills while he was cleaning the pool. We just copied it and put our names on it. Worse than anything we ever did. Worst thing I ever saw!"

"What house!" I demanded, shaking him to keep his attention on me. "Where is it?"

"Please, please, please," he begged, and I suddenly got a whiff of piss.

"Jus-just get me outta here!" he yelled, then he screamed, long and high pitched as I was knocked hard into him and fell into a pile of boxes. I had a close up view as the monster recovered, literally at my feet as the thug I had been questioning bolted in an attempt to escape. The monster recovered in seconds, and with one loud screech, brought the thug down and ripped his back to shreds.

I calmly lined up the Glock, putting several bullets into it's head and destroying it, but the thug was already dead. It was from my vantage point on the floor that I saw the vent above me and what looked like the locked room above that. Climbing up the shelving, I managed to climb into the room through the smallish vents.

I searched the equipment, finally coming up with the original tape. I took it, stashing it in my bag, then started to leave. I was just coming up on the main studio area when two cops burst through the ruined door. I ducked back out of sight, apparently not seen. I then used my shadows to step out to my bike, finding the area crawling with cops.

I hopped on, calmly leaving before I was noticed and went back to Isaac's, and hid my bike in the alley. Isaac was talking with a pretty woman in a blue satin suit when I came in through the door, and the annoyance at being interrupted settled quickly into grim lines on his face.

"Did you find it?" he asked me and I pulled it out of my bag.

"Yes," I said, and he dismissed the woman, saying that they could finish up later. After she left, shutting the interior door to the store behind her, I added, "And the creatures on the tape are real. Small, fast, and very deadly if you're not armed."

"Then this is no doubt the work of a fiend," he said, extending his hand for the tape. "Hand me the tape, there might be something on it that will give us some insight into what its motives are."

I handed him the tape, and he put it into the entertainment system and played it. My earlier suspicion was bore out, it wasn't something that had been shot by a tall individual, the time and date stamp had been removed from the now obvious security footage. It showed the brown haired woman as she arrived by taxi, walking bravely up to the door.

She knocked, and the double doors opened and the scene changed to an interior shot, showing her shock at seeing nothing on the other side. Still, she walked in, calling out for an Andrei when the doors suddenly closed on her. There was nothing to show how the trick was done on opening and closing the doors, but the walls looked as if they were coated in a layer of blood, the paintings by the door showing mutilated bodies in the dim light. The woman tried the door, but it refused to open.

The camera showed the monsters as they lined up along the door, as if they were just servants waiting for orders from the mistress of the house. The woman didn't seem to see them, and fumbled along the wall until she found a light switch. She screamed the moment she saw them, and run deeper into the house and up the stairs.

The rest of the tape was what we'd already been able to see before, where the woman ran through the rest of the house until she locked herself in a room with two more monsters and was killed. This time, the tape didn't fade to black immediately, but showed them lapping at her insides, trying to get to her blood the only way they could, as it pooled inside her wounds.

When it ended, it was Isaac who broke the silence. "The house in the tape, I know it. It's in the Hills, on King's way. My guess is that the fiend that made this tape is using these creatures to hound the Nosferatu, which would explain their sudden absence. They're trapped."

He turned around in his chair to face me, after taking the tape from the VCR and putting it in his desk. "Well, it's unfortunate that the prince needs you to see the Nosferatu, because it looks like this fiend know how to get at them, and I doubt he's going to draw a map for you. King's way is your only way in, unfortunately."

"I'll just follow the little critters to their target," I said aloud, trying to think and plan. I was going to need a lot of ammunition and weapons.

"If I don't hear from the Nosferatu within the next few nights, I'll tell Lacroix he's going to need a new leading lady and march a few of my own troops up there," he said, a smug expression on his face.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Isaac," I muttered as I turned to leave.

"If I may give you one final word of warning," he said, making me turn back as I wondered if I had crossed the line with my mutterings, "Do not trust LaCroix. Do not play the damned politics of the Camarilla. This city hasn't needed them in a long time, and won't ever."

"I'm at the point in my undead life I don't trust much of anybody, anymore," I told him, "Especially the prince." He smiled at that, knowing I didn't trust LaCroix and was probably looking for a way out. I decided to squash that thought. "He pays me well for my services."

I left him with a scowl on his face, knowing his pockets weren't deeper than a Ventrue's. According to Walsh, money didn't matter to a Ventrue. Made me wonder what did, though. I hopped on my bike, deciding I needed to take care of Julius before heading to Fat Larry's for something to take down these monsters with and stock up on ammo.

I was almost to the pier when I spotted Mercurio getting a large duffel out of the trunk of a Mercedes. He spotted me too, and shouted at me, but I didn't hear it over the roar of my Harley. I circled back, parking beside his car to see him smiling.

"Just got back from seeing a friend of mine," he said as he set the duffel on the trunk of his car. "Guy's been miffed about a pay freeze, so he's agreed to start filling my wish list for a cut. Got two rifles outta this trip. Interested?" he said as opened it to reveal the contents.

The first weapon he pulled out looked like an AK-47 assault rifle, wood grips gleaming in the streetlight. "This baby is the Spas fifteen. Twelve gauge semi-automatic rifle. Dual-fire modes, but why anyone would want to go pump is beyond me, and eight round magazine. About the only gun I can get to beat it is a Saiga twelve with a drum magazine. This thing was designed to rip kindred apart, especially if you use these," he said, holding up a box marked Dragon's Breath.

"Dragon's Breath ammo is illegal in Cali," he said, grinning, "but it turns a twelve gauge into a flamethrower with a punch. Hit a kindred with this, they'll frenzy and burn, and burn damage takes much longer to heal. Add to that you can put eight rounds into 'em in a heartbeat…"

"And you can take a kindred down with ease," I said as I looked lovingly at the rifle. "Ooh, I'll definitely take one."

"Thought so, since the master has you running all of his rougher errands," he said, pulling out a case. When he opened it up, he pulled out a rifle that was long and sleek except for the two sticks attached under the barrel, and it was done all in black with a telescope mounted on top of it. Setting the Spas to the side, I took the rifle, finding I really didn't know much about it.

"This one is from my buddy's private stock," he said as he laid the Spas to the side. "Remington Em-twenty-four sniper rifle with Leupold Mark Four scope and Harris bipod and all the other goodies are accounted for in the carrying case. It's one of the most accurate weapons in the world, and almost impossible to get, outside of law enforcement."

I looked the rifle over, noticing its simple lines and lack of sophistication. "How far away is a weapon like this supposed to be used?" I asked, lining the telescope up to my eyes and flicking the covers open. The range I could see clearly was astonishing, easily allowing me to see the bolts on a distant light post as if they were at my feet. I ranged the rifle further down the street, finding a guy sitting in his car smoking a cigarette, his face briefly lit as he puffed.

"Nine hundred yards," he said, and I whistled. "A good marksman is lethal at further ranges."

"Like that ghoul in Hollywood Forever Cemetery?" I asked and Mercurio nodded.

"Romero's one of my best customers," he said as I lowered the rifle. "And I've never seen a better shooter. Man could take the wing off a fly clear across town."

"This rifle is probably right up his alley," I said as I handed it back to him. "I don't usually get the chance to fight at a long range. Half the time, I'm close enough to use a sword," I told him as I handed him the rifle.

He shrugged as he took it back. "That I can understand," he said, putting it back in its case. "Has the Sabbat hit your place yet?"

"No," I said, thinking of my mansion. It was a sitting duck out there in the middle of nowhere, but I had only just acquired it. "I did only just get it though, so I'm hoping they won't attack it for a bit. What's one of their hits like?"

"They hit like a Mack truck, and that's just on their worst days," he said as he turned to face me. "Back in New York, I was working bodyguard for one of the old boys. There was me, a couple of other ghouls and some young kindred types like you. Sabbat hit us, hard, tried to pull a dine and dash. Just two of us walked away, and one was the elder."

"Sounds rough," I said, thinking that if only two people walked out of a hit, one of them an elder, he was either very good, or very lucky. Probably lucky. "Any advice for my ghouls on how to survive their hit?"

"Yeah," he said, hefting the Spas. "Flamethrowers, or leiu thereof, a line of Spas and Dragon's Breath ammo. If you could get access to one, a belt fed automatic and tracer rounds would be best. Tracer rounds work better than normal bullets because they burn as they're shot, and you types don't heal that damage very well."

"Preach," I said with a smile, remembering the pain and difficulty I had when the sun had burned me on my way home. "So how much for the Spas?"

"I can let you have it for five, mainly because you saved my ass," he said as he handed me the Spas fifteen again.

Thinking of my upcoming meeting with Julius, it was a perfect chance to test it out when I executed the traitor. It didn't sit well with me, being an executioner, but we did live under strict laws. I couldn't expect everyone I met to be as understanding as Samantha and accept my unnatural hunger. In fact, most people would probably freak out if they saw me feeding.

If there was one thing I could agree with the prince about, it was the need for our secrecy. Mortals couldn't handle the fact that undead predators walked among them. The hunter I had killed in the Sin Bin was proof of that. I hadn't no more appeared than she pulled a weapon and tried to kill me. I could have been coming to her with information about a dangerous kindred that needed to be killed, and she didn't care.

Shaking my head at my train of thought, I reached into my messenger bag for my money. I'd kept several grand in here, or so I thought, only finding a few hundreds. Frowning, I checked the rest of my bag, eventually finding the rest of the required money, though I was down to just a few dollars. It seemed my ghouls were using my cash on hand, though I couldn't fault them for following my orders. Maybe I needed to start a ledger and any expenses they made could be tallied on it. I had to keep track of their expenses somehow.

Counting out the five hundred dollars, most of it in fives and ones, I handed it all to Mercurio. He handed me a box of Dragon's Breath ammo, and he helped me load up the Spas. It carried eight rounds in its magazine, and we put nothing but Dragon rounds in it.

Once we had it loaded, Mercurio stuffed it back in the duffle and I slung it over my back, making it impractical to carry all the time. It wasn't that it was heavy, but it was kind of easy to guess what I had in a large duffle bag slung over my back as I rode. And all I needed was a cop to pull me over and ask to search me to end up on the wrong side of mortal law enforcement.

Taking the bag and bidding Mercurio farewell, I headed down to the beach access under the pier, and walked down the steps and out onto the beach. There was only one person out here, a kindred in a white t-shirt and a mohawk. I walked up, shifting the duffle bag so I could pull the Spas if I needed it. The kindred noticed me as I walked up, shifting around to get on his feet, ready to bolt.

"You Julius," I asked him.

"W- wh-wh-what de-d-do you want" he stammered, looking at me. He seemed ready to bolt, and E's earlier warning when we first met about Thin Bloods being hunted rang through me.

I pulled the Spas from the duffle and aimed it at him. "You goddamn traitor!" I yelled, shouldering the Spas and getting ready to blow him to ash.

Julius backpedaled hard, falling into the sand where he lay frozen. "Nuh-n nuh-nuh-nuh-no," he stammered fast, looking at the wicked shotgun I held.

"What were you thinking? Telling a human about us? Do you know what the consequences are?" I yelled at him.

"Puh-puh-puh-please! I-I-I duh-doh-don-d-dinon't know!"

"You know what the penalty is for breaking the Masquerade, Julius! Do you?!" I yelled at him. I wanted to pull the trigger, to end his suffering before my own nerve failed.

"I-I-I I'm suh-suh-sorry! Puh-please," he stammered on. "I'll never do it again!"

"The punishment is death!" I yelled at him. I knew I should fire the gun, incinerating the poor sap, but I couldn't do it.

"Y-y-you cuh-could lemme go!" he said, stammering on as he pleaded for his life. "I-I-I puh-puh-promise I-I-I wuh-would leave Los A-Angeles, I swear!"

"I don't know, Julius," I told him. "I could end up in just as much trouble as you."

"N-nuh-no one ha-has t-to know!" he yelled, and my heart fell.

One person did, besides me and him, and if one did, more might know. Running the various scenarios through my mind, I couldn't help but remember something the prince had said. Lowering my gun, I knew I was taking a risk, but since I had plugged the leak in the masquerade, it should be over and done with.

"Get out of here, tonight," I said and Julius nodded emphatically. "And if I ever see you in Los Angeles again, Julius, I will kill you."

"Th-thank y-you," he said, as he scrambled to his feet and ran off down the beach.

I watched him go, then put the Spaz back in the duffle, wondering if I'd saved or damned myself by not killing Julius when I had the chance. At least the Nosferatu weren't around to leak that back to the prince.


	33. Chapter 33 - Verdammt Wir Leben Noch

Chapter 33 – Verdammt Wir Leben Noch

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

It was with a some trepidation I headed up to King's Way. I hadn't faced but a few kindred in battle, winning against Jezebel and Kanker due to my shadows, and only by my shadows. In a straight up fight, I was probably going to lose. At least now I had the Spas fifteen, and I hoped the fancy ammo worked as planned. If it did, I could incinerate Andrei in seconds. If it didn't, well, I still had the katana on my back.

It didn't take long for me to find the house, a large two story with several garage doors facing the street. I parked my bike behind the fence, where it wasn't easily seen. While I could step back to it anytime I needed to with my shadow abilities, I was going to have to follow whatever conduit Andrei had to the Nosferatu.

Stepping to the front door, I tried to open it, but the handle spun freely. I tried budging the door with my shoulder and potence, but it was solid as a rock. I looked around for windows, but they all seemed to be solid panes of glass with tin foil covering them on the inside. Circling the house, I came upon a trellis where vines grew to the second story.

I climbed up, soon finding myself on the third floor balcony. Looking around, I found a sliding glass door with tinfoil taped over it, making it a poor man's sun shield. I tried to slide the door open, but it was locked. I looked at the glass door, then pulled my Glock and blew the glass apart. I probably should be mortified at causing so much property damage, but one look inside and I decided to torch the place as the walls were covered in so much blood that the wallpaper looked like viscera. Grimacing at the sight of the room, I looked up to see even the ceiling looked bloody, making the room feel as if it were once a living thing.

I stepped through the door just to hear the screech of one of those little monsters. I had barely had time to turn before it tackled me to the floor, it's claw-like feet ripping at my duster as we fell. Thankfully, it fell off when I hit the floor, and I brought the Glock up, firing directly into its face and destroying it. Being so close to the monster as it blew up, I could see the fiery ash I would associate of a kindred dying mixed with the blood and viscera.

'So they are at least part kindred,' I mused, getting back to my feet and reloading my pistol with a fresh clip. I looked around the room, finding a pile of bones in the corner. I toed some of the cloth aside, finding out that it was the remains of the woman in the tape. I went through the door into the hallway, finding it had some sort of upstairs study with bloody chairs.

Another of those little monsters came out a far door, and I leveled my pistol, firing twice before it could even screech it's warning. I kept my pistol aimed at the far door, using my powers to see into the shadows as if it there were lights on. I found it an empty room, and turned back to take in the hallway better. The house seemed to be growing bones, as they were sprouting out and back into the drywall as if they belonged there. I didn't dare touch the walls for fear of getting blood on me, but at least the floor seemed to be made of solid wood.

I found the stairs down, finding they ended in a dining room and kitchen combo. One of the monsters took notice of me, screeching just as I put another round down it's open mouth, silencing it. It tried to shake it off, but I followed it up with several more, until it was destroyed.

I cast around, not finding any more in sight, but grimaced at what I did see. Seemed like they butchered meat here, several slabs of rotting meat chunks giving evidence to that fact. A rustle behind the center island brought my gun up, and I found another of the little monsters pawing at a cupboard. I fired three rounds into the back of its head before a screech behind me made me duck and turn as another one came into view. I fired wildly, emptying the clip as it launched itself at me, covering me in ash as it disintegrated right in front of me.

I raised myself up, reloading my clip from rounds in my bag. I then continued down the steps, finding myself on what was likely the ground floor. There was another set of stairs beside the entryway door that led down, and I followed it into a parlor type room. The door in the corner began to bang, and I brought my gun up just as the monster behind it broke the door off its hinges. Lining up my shot before it could pinpoint me, I blew it away with several well placed shots.

Noting the last door, I opened it to find it was a long set of stairs going down, where what I could only assume was a man as he worked on something I couldn't see on a table in front of him. Figuring I had finally found Andrei, I looked around the ruin of a house and decided I needed to destroy this before any kine found it.

Going back up to the kitchen, I used my potence to yank the old gas stove out of its hole and break the pipe that was there. I could hear the hiss of the gas as it flowed into the room, then went back to the parlor and used my lighter to start a fire on one of the old armchairs. Hoping my homemade bomb worked, I then took the stairs down to meet Andrei.

It was on the first step I decided to use the Spas on Andrei. Taking a moment, I put my Glock back in its holster and pulled the assault shotgun out of its bag, making sure the weapon's safety was off. Andrei didn't take notice of my arrival until I was nearly at the bottom of the stairs when a step creaked as I stepped down it. It gave me a chance to see what he was working on; a person laid out on the table in the center of the room.

Andrei turned to face me as I came around the banister at the bottom of the stairs, Spas in hand. He didn't seem to pay it any mind as I faced him, and I steeled myself from his icy glaze. He didn't even look human. His eyes were yellow and orange, giving him an alien look with skin of leather and absolutely no hair at all. If I didn't know he was kindred, I'd probably take him for an alien on his say so alone. He had spikes coming through his trenchcoat, giving him a sinister look. Even his hands didn't have much semblance of normalcy, looking more like the claws Jean sprouted that night in her pickup.

"Hello, young Lasombra," he said in a deep resonating voice. It was probably the one part of him I found comforting. "I see your face is not so lifeless, the nerves not so deadened, that you cannot express shock. Tell me, young one, is my appearance that frightening?"

"It's unsettling," I admitted. "So you're Andrei? Leader of the Sabbat?" I proffered. Andrei dipped his head in acknowledgement, a smile quirking his face.

"I would have hoped you tracked me down on your own merit, young one," he went on. "But I find it more likely you were sent here to kill me."

"It's always an option," I halfway joked. "It's not like kindred leave evidence behind when they die. I doubt you'd be able to find a speck of Simeon's corpse on that stage they decapitated him on."

"Oh, so true," he said, a smile again quirking his lips. "I have known many Lasombra over my long years, and the one tenet of their clan I find most appealing is their desire that the strongest survive. You have done well on this, having your family ripped from you, your life torn away, your own body assaulted, yet here you are. Richer than you were before, more powerful than Simeon could hope to attain, deadlier than almost any pack I have, yet I wonder why you take orders from that puppet prince?"

"Because I can't fight an entire city," I told him, and he frowned. "You have other ideas?"

"I am but one kindred, yet I have repeatedly thwarted their attempts to stop me, and now," he said, turning back to the table where I watched as he warped the man on the table even further until he turned into one of those wicked little monsters. It thrashed a few times, then fell off the table to land on its feet and looked up at Andrei.

"Go little one, join your brothers," he said and it scampered off through a little doorway set low into the dirty floor. "Blessed little creatures, my szlachta. I have broken through the crust of their existence and brought forth their greatest strength; mutability. Coaxing bone, weaving flesh, and lacing sinew tight until it's straining to lash out! Perfect creatures to drive the Nosferatu from their nests. The sewers beyond are filled with my creations, and now the Camarilla is blind to the Sabbat's designs. All done by one kindred."

"Good point," I said, looking around the walls at the people who were chained there. "Where do you get the people for this?"

"Illegals, mongrels, caitiff, Thin Bloods, the bane of both kindred and kine society," he said in a dispassionate voice. "They are of little consequence to authority as they are to me. It is a, culling, of sorts."

I toed through the pile of clothes beside the table, thinking Andrei was just about as nuts as the prince. "So, what are you going to do with the Anarchs once you subdue the Cammies?"

"They can join us, or join the Camarilla in their final death," he said, and I shook my head when my boot unearthed a tie dyed halter top with a familiar pattern.

"I presume you have a position for me in this grand scheme of yours?" I asked absently, spreading it out to see the familiar yellow and orange of Lily's top.

"Simeon was our Archbishop, heading the various packs we were to use as a military force," he prattled on, though I was past caring. Finding Lily's top here could only mean one thing, and I searched the walls for E. "He intended you to be a Bishop, but if you were to come back, I would be more than happy to extend his title to you."

I locked eyes on a man hanging in the far corner, and my hands gripped my Spas tightly. "So generous," I said, turning to face Andrei. "And if I decline?"

"Oh, childe," he said chuckling. "You have lived in my good graces since you were captured by the Camarilla. My packs have hit many of the weak among them, silencing some. Though they have wished to come after you, I have denied them this. Celeste especially wants the chance to face you for destroying the plague she was creating and ruining her life in the Tremere, pitiful spawn that she is. To stand against me is to face her. Is that what you wish?"

"What I wish," I said, turning to face him fully as my rage built, "was to be left in peace. I didn't want my life ripped apart. I didn't want to be kindred! AND I SURE AS HELL DIDN'T WANT MY FRIENDS TO DIE!" I yelled, pointing the Spas directly at Andrei and began pulling the trigger as fast as I could. Each shot let out a roar of flame that engulfed him, the bright flash blinding my sensitive eyes. I was sure that there'd be nothing left when I finished putting the eighth shot into him, but he just chuckled as he patted out the smoldering ruin that was beginning on his shoulder.

I could only stare in disbelief as Andrei stood there chuckling in the ruin I had made of his dark red trenchcoat, which was about the only damage I had done. I could see the hardened armor his skin made, articulated and hardened like the shell of a beetle.

"Peace it is, then," he said, raising his hand. "Peace of the grave!"

Loud screeching filled my ears as more of those szlachta poured out of pipes set into the walls. Dropping the empty Spas, I hesitated for a brief moment before yanking my katana from it's sheath on my back and slicing the first one as it leaped for me. Two more tackled me from behind, their claw-like hands ripping at my duster.

I rolled forward, shaking the two off my back, slicing my katana at several more. Panic filled me as I struggled to stay upright as several more tackled me from the sides, their claws ripping my duster to shreds. I did a quick hand-stand-flip combo that put me over the mass of creatures, and I swiped at the nearest one to leave a deep gash on its forehead. I landed on my feet, grabbing the katana in both hands and activating my potence as I swung again, hoping the former Kue-Jin's sword was up to the task required of it. The sword bit deep, cutting several in two to leave them piles of ash and bloody chunks. I couldn't even keep track of how many there were, just kept the sword swinging at anything that seemed to move.

An ear shattering boom rang out over us, and part of the ceiling cave in over the stairs to engulf them in flames.

"What have you done, you miserable puppet!" Andrei roared as he took in the devastation upstairs.

"Made sure that no matter what happened down here, I shut your operation down," I told him as his creatures backed off. "One kindred with a mission," I bounced back at him. Another piece of the ceiling fell from the kitchen area, and he regarded it with cold compassionless eyes.

"Then you can burn with my creations you were so eager to destroy," he said, turning his back on me as another piece of the ceiling fell. The old wood must be pretty dry to catch fire and go so easy, and his szlachta attacked me again en masse.

Using my potence, I continued to swing my blade for all it was worth as I ducked under or rolled over the creature's attacks. Another piece of the ceiling fell in, driving me back as the fire nearly caused my beast to take over. An unven step brought my gaze to the ground, and I saw my Spas and where I dropped it.

I picked it up, stashing it back in my duffle before looking at the ceiling to see it had become a fiery inferno up there. It was burning too hot, and my beast screamed at me to run. I watched as the creatures split up, trying to find a way around the fire so they could attack me, when I made my move. Using my potence, I jumped the fiery debris and bolted into the tunnel Andrei had disappeared down.

Turning back to the fiery basement, I watched as the building began to collapse and the surviving creatures were trapped in the blaze, ensuring their death. I paused to take stock of my duster, finally removing it and tearing the sheath out of the back so Heather could reuse it again.

Moving away from the wall, I headed off down the sewers, my hunger growing from overuse of my vampiric powers.

=o=0=o=

I clawed my way up the muddy bank, my internal clock telling me it was nearly dawn. I had gashes all over my back from where I kept getting pounced by Andrei's creations. Turns out, they had a knack for getting into tight spaces where you didn't think they'd fit into. I paid for that lesson dearly, and had to get used to carrying my sword in one hand and Glock in the other.

As I finally stood on the bank, I took stock of everything. One thing I knew for sure, as I stood there with Katana in hand, I was completely out of ammo. My duffle was long gone, my Spas now held across my back with a strap of cloth as if I were a militant guerrilla fighter and my Magnum and Glock out on display for all to see.

I started walking away from the underground lake that I had been dumped in after getting through the last trapped door. Seems like the Nossies had been doing their best to stop the szlachta, but that wasn't the only thing Andrei had been making. One of his creations was even larger, almost eight feet and pure muscle and was capable of ripping gates out of stone. Good thing the damn thing was all muscle and no brain, because I was able to slip past it to cut its Achilles tendon which made it fall and I could cleave it's head off with no problem.

I had to hand it to the Nos, they picked one hell of a back door to their lair. No living person could survive the trip, not unless they packed, and could use, scuba equipment, but here I was, squishing my way forward in my soaked clothes, water sloshing in my boots with every step. Gary was going to laugh his ass off when he saw me.

I was still hungry, even after slaking my thirst as best I could. I managed to find an access to the surface streets, momentarily leaving my guns behind to go feed. I found a bar near the sewer access and began to start seducing anyone I could. It took four necks to slake my hunger, surprising me. Apparently as Lasombra changed me to accommodate his desires, kine no longer satisfied my thirst for blood.

I shook my head at the thought that soon I wouldn't be able to feed normally at all. One thought did creep into my head, even though everything I knew about what I was becoming told me it was wrong; I needed kindred blood. I thought of what I had done to Damsel when we were alone and cringed. Now I wanted VV's neck? What was I becoming?

I slogged along the tunnel, determined to ask Beckett if I ever saw him again when I started to see doors set along the path. I passed by many of the plain wooden doors not even bothering to check to see if one held Gary. Had to figure the Primogen would have a fancier door than just a simple wooden one.

After a multitude of doors I found one ringed in green lights. I opened to see a young Nos tapping away at a computer screen. "Wow! You really opened it!" he said, not even looking up at me. "I can't believe you just opened it. What kind of a freakin' idiot just opens it.?"

I closed the door silently before I had to deal with a kindred break down and kept going down the line of doors in the tunnel. It wasn't until I found one with purple lights that I tried it again. Inside was a woman talking to a marked up picture on the wall. "Just look at her! Too fat, big teeth and her complexion! Does she wash her face with a cheese grater?"

I closed the door quickly, then did a double take at my bony body. Too fat? There was nothing left! Suppose it could have been that time of the month and was left bloated for eternity, but no. I had to be starved for a week first.

I continued on, crossing a chasm where water ran along, presumably to the lake. There was a metal walkway over it, and I crossed over to find myself in a small cavern with a large set of double doors at the other side. I passed over and walked up to the doors, opening them to see another tunnel that led around a bend.

I followed it to find a dinner party. At least it should have been a dinner party. The 'guests' were actually corpses sitting propped up in their places with dead rats on the table.

"By the clack-smack cracking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes," I heard Gary's voice say, though I couldn't see the tuxedo wearing kindred. "I don't remember seeing you on the guest list for the dinner party. We're having a wrap party for the Misfits about forty years late. Cast and crew only, boss."

"Funny, Gary," I said, forcing a smile on my lips even though I felt like shit, and probably looked it. "The prince sent me to talk about the Ankaran Sarcophagus."

"You don't say," I heard him say. "You should have got here sooner. That lot's been sold."

"Who bought it?" I asked him, hoping it could be that simple to finish this run but knowing it wouldn't be.

"I like to discuss business face to face," he said, then chuckled. "Up for seeing what I really look like?"

"Sure," I said, preparing myself to see the ugly mug of a Nos again.

"Are you sure?" he asked, trying to mess with my head in whatever mind games he liked to play. "You don't want my image in your subconscious. It's the stuff nightmares are made of."

"Remind me to show you what's in the void," I said, smiling at the silence. "I've seen kindred adopt psychosis at the shit in there, and I'm still here, doing the work of the prince."

"Behind you, boss!" Gary shouted, misting into existence as I turned to face him, sworg poised to block an attack that thankfully wasn't coming. He had the bulbous, hairless cranium I was coming to expect from all Nos and Elven like ears. And while he still wore a tux, it was minus it's sleaves.

"Delighted," I said, lowering the katana. "Now where's the sarcophagus?"

"Where, where, where did it go?" he said, rubbing his chin. "That thing gets around more than Mae West. Why, might I ask, should I give you that information?"

"Because I got rid of Andrei's szlachta for you, clearing out the sewers so you wouldn't lose anymore kindred. You lost a one, by the way. They ganged up on him before I could save him."

"Oh my hero," he said in a somewhat sing-songy voice that made me want to stab him. "Had it not been for that damn Tzimisce, you'd still be searching under rocks for us. It was hardly a favor, but, I know where your prince's prize is. There's very little that doesn't leak down into this place. Tell me boss, you ever gone up against a Kue-Jin?"

"Yeah, I have," I said, and Gary snorted in laughter.

"That's a good one boss. You been feeding near the skids again?"

"Where do you think I got this?" I said, holding up the katana to him. Gary looked at it, then shook his head sadly.

"Damn, you have beaten a Kue-Jin," he said as he handed me the sword again. "The Kue-Jin are vampires, but not like kindred. Sometimes known as vampires of the East, but they ain't kin. They're just someone else that, if you aren't careful, might give you the Final Death."

"Taking down this little sucker for Tung nearly got me killed," I said and Gary's face smirked at that. "Damn guy was blindingly fast and an astonishing jumper. Apparently he was scouting for the rest of his kin. Making a play?"

"Maybe," he said, his hand scratching at his chin again. "We've been fighting them for years, only making peace this last year because we both couldn't keep the fight going. Heard that got a new priestess from China, and it looks like she's about to start the war up again.

"That's one reason I sent Barabus into Chinatown, doing some snooping, a little hacking and make some contacts. Problem is he's not been checking in, and I need to know what happened."

"Sounds simple, just find him, and if needed, break him out if the Kue-Jin have him?" I asked and Gary nodded.

"Head for the Golden Temple in Chinatown," he said, giving me a place to start. "It's a piss poor copy of the real place. That eyesore is where you'll find the leader of the LA Kue-Jin. They call her Ming-Xiao. Just talk to her, find out where my boy is, and get him back. Once he's safe, I'll tell you everything you need to know about the sarcophagus."

"Great," I said, as I felt the sun rise. "I'll just head out there this evening."

"In the meantime," Gary said as he leaned against the wall, feeling the sun rise as well, "I got a room you can lay out in. You'll be safe, I promise."

"No thanks," I said, shaking my head slowly. "You got an easy access out?"

"A risk taker, eh?" he said then nodded his head to something behind me. "That door will take you back to Hollywood Forever Cemetery. It's actually the front door in, and how we usually get in and out. You'll be the only non clan member that knows of it, so keep it a secret."

"Sure," I said, heading for the door. "I'll let you know what I find, but be warned, the prince isn't happy with you right now. He wants that sarcophagus bad."

"Then maybe next time he can pay me to not tell anyone else what I told him," he said with a chuckle as he disappeared in front of my eyes.

I took the door out, finding myself in a hand dug tunnel that led to a ladder. The ladder led to a heavy door with interior hinges, and after swinging it out, found myself back in the mausoleum where Ginger Swan was buried. With the light becoming bright out, I stepped home through the shadow, coming out in the one thing I wanted more than anything after being through who knew what muck, the master bathroom.

I didn't even announce myself to my ghouls, just started to strip my ruined clothes and bathe while I could. When the door opened, I checked around the edge of the curtain to find Heather picking up my ruined clothes and a look of utter disgust on her face.

"Just throw the clothes out," I said as I lathered up. I didn't pay any attention to her after that, but concentrated on getting clean.

When I stepped out, everything was cleaned up and a gray silk bathrobe was hanging there waiting for me. I slipped it on, stepping out to find Heather and Samantha waiting for me.

"Where's the duster?" Heather asked me.

"Shredded," I said, and she made a pout-y face. "Got attacked by some small creatures that ripped it to pieces, brought back the katana and it's sheath, but that was all I could salvage out of it."

"Wonder if kevlar would hold up any better," Samantha added to the conversation.

"What's kevlar?" Heather asked her.

"Bulletproof cloth," Samantha said, looking at my ghoul. "Enough of it together and you can stop a rifle shot even if you're right at the end of the barrel it's fired from. It's supposed to be stronger than steel, so maybe it will help against knife attacks."

"Can you get a hold of some?" Heather asked, and I smiled at her take charge attitude.

"Maybe," Samatha said. "Let me make some calls."

"You two handle that," I said, yawning as I was so tired. "I'm going down to bed."

I left the two to talk over my next duster, going downstairs to find my bed. I shut myself in my room, heading over to my now finished bed and pulled back my deep purple satin duvet. The sheets under the duvet were silk and the same deep purple as the duvet. I sat on the bed, looking down at my overstuffed pillows. Heather must have had a very fun shopping spree at my expense, but I couldn't fault the ghoul for wanting her master to have the best.

I lay back in the bed, covering myself up as I began to drift off to sleep. If I had any thing bad to say about my bed, it was that I only slept in it for so many hours before waking. Otherwise, it sat unsused.

Oh well.


	34. Chapter 34 - Out and About

Author's Note: Sorry about the long wait in the update. Been stressed out lately and overworked. Hope ya'll had a good Thanksgiving, and if I don't update again before Christmas, may you have a Happy New Year!

* * *

Chapter 34 - Out and About

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

~Constance~

I sat in a comfy, overstuffed chair in the Great Room watching Eliza's magic painting. She was currently splashing about in the pool she seemed to be stuck by. Having watched her most of the day, I could honestly say she was nothing like Eliza herself. Eliza was shy about her body, hiding it from view at every chance. The painting? Well, she was skinny dipping, not even trying to cover herself at all.

I stretched my aching legs, knowing I needed to stand and stretch but lacking the will to do so. I knew I was risking anemia if I kept trying to be Eliza's sole source of blood. She had brought home that Samantha lady, apparently an old friend from when she was living, and had shown her what it was like to be fed from. I had watched it all, half hating her at usurping my spot and envious that she could be fed from for so long.

I guess in the end, it was the envy that won out. The little slips she took from my neck didn't give me the same feeling it had when she first fed from me. I wanted more, but here I was, stuck in this chair, too weak to even go to the bathroom not thirty feet away. I had chosen this spot because one, it was comfortable, and two, it was entertaining to watch the painting as she played.

First thing was she knew I was here, having actually waved at seeing me this morning. Second, she seemed lonely stuck there in her painting. Technically, she didn't even have her own body. She was just a consciousness and it made me wonder how smart she really was. It also made me wonder if it were like those paintings in the Harry Potter books in that she could talk, but maybe didn't know how.

As I sat watching Heather came in from the veranda wearing a silk bathrobe. She had been out sunbathing and was obviously enjoying herself, but I couldn't help but wonder at the changes drinking her blood had. I knew I was on the giving end, but maybe after a while I could switch to the taking end.

Heather noticed me from where I was stretched on the brand new La-Z-Boy which was one of Brian's few demands for the house, and gave me a smile. "I don't think you've moved from that spot all day," she accused. "I figured you'd get out and get a tan or something. You could have come out and got a tan at least. Brian would have loved rubbing you down with lotion so you could have gotten a full tan."

I smiled wanly back, but didn't otherwise move. "I haven't," I admitted to her. "And not right now. I'm really just wondering how mad Eliza might be if I ask to get let off from my duties tonight."

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked, getting concerned. I could see past it though, as all she really wanted was to keep Eliza happy.

That was one thing I wasn't sure about becoming one of her ghouls. Both Heather and Brian would do whatever she wanted, even going to extra lengths to keep her happy, and that's all I was to them. Something to be kept around to keep Eliza happy. If it weren't for the fact I chose it to feel the ecstasy of her bite, I might just get up and leave.

"I'm so weak right now that I've not gotten up," I told her. I could see the relief in her eyes that I wasn't likely to bolt, but that didn't help. "I think she's taking too much of my blood, and if I keep this up it might make me sick."

"Okay," she said, turning to look back out the window to the setting sun. "Mistress ought to be up soon. We can talk to her about it then."

"Okay," I said, dropping my head against the chair.

Heather left to go upstairs and dress, taking the room east from mine and still facing the ocean. Brian ended up with the downstairs bedroom, next to Eliza's hidden bedroom, mainly so he could protect her I think. He had one of these La-Z-Boy recliners down there too, next to the painting that hid the access to her room.

I continued to watch the painting as she climbed out of the pool. The sun never set in the painting, so she donned a bikini and set herself in a chaise lounge to get a tan. I waited, watching her try and tan her pale skin. After watching her for ten minutes, without either of us moving an inch, I began to wonder if she fell asleep.

After some time, and the sun began to sink low against the water, and I finally saw the painting stretch. Figuring Eliza was up, I finally raised myself and began the walk downstairs. It wasn't until I was stepping through the hidden access that I saw Brian and Heather as they tended to a very naked Eliza as she stood in the center of the room. That was the first thing that shocked me, as Brian was never allowed to see her naked. Hell, Eliza got mad at

"Brush my hair, ghoul," Eliza growled at Heather. Heather fumbled with the hair pick, dropping it on the floor. She had no more bent to pick it up when Eliza reached down and smacked her, knocking her into a wall. "I said 'brush my hair,' not 'drop the brush!'" she yelled at the sulking Heather.

"Sorry, mistress," she whimpered as she crawled across the floor to pick up the pick from where it had fallen.

'This is all wrong," I thought, but didn't say anything. If Eliza had flipped her lid, there was no telling what she could do. I'd heard from Brian about how she could easily break bats and survive multiple gunshots to the chest, and in no way did I want to be on the receiving end of her misery.

"Now, brush my hair," she commanded, and Heather quickly scampered to fulfill her mistresses request.

Brian watched, impassive, as he retrieved the items Heather asked for. I couldn't help but watch in astonishment as they went through her routine. Brian was even allowed to help her step into clothes, which she normally did herself.

"Come here, doll," she commanded, now dressed in a pair of black dress slacks and a red silk shirt. She stood on two inch heels, looking wholly professional with her hair done in a French braid. It wasn't until her hard eyes fell on me that I realized she had called me doll, and not in any kind of sweet or sexy way. "Are you hard of hearing?"

"No mistress," I said, stepping forward.

Her hand shot out and grabbed me by the neck as soon as I was in reach, and she lifted me clear off my feet. "Your pitiful blood is a measly meal," she said, before twirling me around in her arm so that my back was to her front.

There was no warning as she used her other hand to twist my head to the side as her teeth sank into my neck. The pleasurable feeling I'd come to expect from her feeding wasn't there this time. Instead, it was painful to feel her teeth rip into my neck and into my vein. I could only cry silently as she drank my life-giving blood, my strength fading as she drank until my world began to blur at the ages.

When she finished, she flung me to the bed where I lay in a crumpled heap. The world around me lost focus, as if I were too tired to stay awake, but I kept my focus on the world around and refused to slip off to sleep. Even so, I could only watch as Brian slipped a long leather coat over her arms and rested it on her shoulders as she left me without so much as a backwards glance.

I was still laying there minutes later, finding only the strength to raise my head enough to put it on one of the silk pillow cases me and Heather had bought for her bed when Heather and Brian came back into the room. They both took one look at me before eyeing each other with curious looks.

"That wasn't Eliza," I told them, my voice weak as I struggled to just breathe.

"Sure it was," Brian countered. "I could feel it in my blood when she gave me orders."

"Me too," Heather said, concern on her face. "She's just having a bad night."

"Bad night?" I asked, aghast that she was blowing off such blatant un-Eliza like behavior. I could feel the tear run down my cheek as I forced myself to keep going. "Since when did she let Brian see her naked? When does she strike people because you dropped a hairbrush? Eliza would never do any of that!" I cried to them. Didn't they understand?

"Sweety," Heather said, helping me to sit up as I kept trying to raise myself and couldn't.

"Don't Heather," I said, feeling more tears slip down my face. "As soon as I can make it up the stairs, I'm just going to go."

"And do what, exactly?" Brian asked, blocking me from rising. "The mistress has me under orders to make sure you stay put. That's never changed."

"That wasn't Eliza!" I cried. "Think Brian! When I mentioned you tried to see me naked, she reamed you out! Every time she changed clothes, she made sure you weren't in the room! Yet today she allows you to put her panties on her as if she were entitled to royal treatment!" I screached at him, my voice giving out as I was forced to lean against Heather because I was falling down weak.

"She's got a point, Brian," Heather said. I looked up at her, and she gave me a wan smile. "Remember how concerned she got when Constance didn't wake back up after she got burned? She's got a sensitive side. And she's right. Maybe her blood is doing something to us. Maybe we should all leave."

"Withdrawal from this is going to be a bitch," Brian said. "Maybe you ain't never done drugs before, but I was raised with it. When the withdrawal hits, you'll want her so bad you'd do anything to get it again, and I don't know if I can survive that."

"What do we do?" Heather asked him, and he shook his head.

"Maybe we should leave for a time. See if she calms down," he said finally.

It seemed like a good plan, but I knew if she ordered them to do something, they'd be compelled to obey. "We don't give her any warning, either," I said, glad they were finally listening. I don't know what her blood was doing to them, but if I didn't get out of here before her next meal, it might be my last. "In the morning, we just pack up and leave."

"Why the morning," Brian asked, as he eyed me from where I was leaned against Heather.

"Because I have no strength left to walk," I said, and he rolled his eyes. "Carry me upstairs to bed?"

=o=0=o=

 _~Jean Baker, AKA Norma Jeane Mortenson, AKA Marilyn Monroe. Bounty Hunter of Kindred and Kine, Deputy to Scourge Walsh and Sheriff Kondo of the Camarilla~_

Driving along Sunset Boulevard in my Toyota Hilux, I was just downright bored. The police scanner was silent about the perp that had been reported earlier engaging in sword fights around Chinatown, but I wasn't foolish enough to go in without backup. I'd been in the fight with the Kue-Jin long enough to know you didn't take them on mano-a-mano and live to tell the tell.

If the perp turned out to be kindred, I was thinking of taking them back to Vesuvius for a celebratory drink, regardless of their preferences. Only one kindred I'd ever known had tried, and he was a true hunter who made his home in the hills north of LA with the werewolves. He had come to town after a Gathering in the early 90's brought to his attention how bad the Kue-Jin could be to hunt for a lone kindred. He'd taken his time, hunting several on his own.

I shook my head, remembering the man's full name as it was spoken at Gathering. Though I'd heard much from others at the gathering about his exploits, he refused to name half of what he'd done because it hadn't been a challenge. Hell, if I had done a third of what he refused to name, I'd wear it proudly at a Gathering.

I turned to go up North Main Street, cutting it as close as I dared to Chinatown. I was just about to find an abandoned lot to turn around in when a shadowy figure was briefly illuminated by my headlights. I hit the brakes, but the person thumped against my brush guard and was briefly pinned against my hood until the momentum of my braking threw them forward down the street. I quickly got out to check on them, finding it was a woman in a black business suit and heels. I sniffed the air, not finding any traces of gunpowder in the air, so I stepped forward to turn her over and got a shock.

"Eliza?" I said, astonished at the little kindred being here. She glanced around, confusion on her face.

"Jean?" she said, looking around before getting to her feet. "I feel like I lost a fight."

"You did," I joked, looking back at my old pickup truck. "I think you caused a dent or two, at least. Would you like to try round two?"

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head. "Um," she said, glancing around. "I got places to be, so if you don't mind?"

"Not at all," I told her and she seemed relieved, "but have you heard of someone causing a disturbance around here? Police are hunting for someone causing sword fights up here."

"No," she said with a slight smile. "Not carrying my katana tonight. Andrei's szlachta took care of that when they ripped my duster to shreds."

"Hmm," I said, glancing around and not sure what a szlachta was. "Well, if you happen to hear of a kindred causing a disturbance up here, let us know. I don't want to see the Kue-Kin prowling for kindred blood again."

"My intentions are peaceful here, I assure," she told me, and I wondered at that. "Gary just wants me to find one of his missing clan that went missing here."

"Good luck then," I told her as I headed back to my truck. "And be careful. The Kue-Jin aren't to be trifled with."

"Will do," she said as she walked off.

I hopped back in my truck, then looked at the receding figure of Eliza. She wasn't carrying a gun, not one that I could smell anyway, and she didn't appear to have any other weapon on her. I smiled at the thought of someone walking unarmed into Kue-Jin territory to start trouble, but knew it would mean a lot of trouble for me.

I drove off, leaving Eliza to her own troubles. I really hoped she didn't start trouble with the Kue-Jin. As deputy, I'd be forefront in the fight against them, and there was nothing in my arsenal I could use that would be effective.

I glanced down at my hand, and shook my head. I just didn't have it in me to shift forms with my protean ability. I was pretty talented with my fortitude, having grown accustomed even when I was alive to taking hits to my person and career and shrugging it off, but I was ash walking if I thought about fighting this war.

"Please, God," I silently prayed as I prowled the streets near Chinatown, "Don't let her do something stupid."


	35. Chapter 35 - Kick Ass, Forget The Names

Author's Note: Okay, I had to come up with my own way of describing Celerity from a first-person POV. Hope you enjoy it, as it took me a while to figure out how to make it believable and powerful without being too vague in how it worked and felt. Hope everyone likes it, and enjoy your holidays!

Merry Christmas!

* * *

Chapter 35 – Kick Ass, Forget The Names

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

 _~Eliza Flores~_

I walked into an alleyway as Jean pulled away and checked myself. I wasn't packing any kind of weapon, not even a Swiss Army Knife. I was wearing a nice set of clothes though; black dress slacks, red silk shirt and a hip length black leather coat on two inch black pumps. Classy, but probably put together by Heather and not Lasombra. The only thing I was missing were my customary shades, but with the hour being late, I could only hope no one noticed. At least I didn't have to worry about someone taking my picture as proof and just closed my eyes to mere slits so it was harder to notice.

I could only wonder what my ghouls had went through as I came out of the alley and into the heart of Chinatown. Eyeing a passerby, I felt extremely naked without a weapon and shook my head. A week ago I wouldn't have even wanted to handle a pistol, now I wanted one. Of course, a week ago I had still been breathing, and I could only look forward to the day when I could walk the streets without needing guns.

Like that was ever going to happen. From what I could tell so far, every night was a struggle to survive, and I had survived so far only because I hadn't played the game everyone else was playing. So far, I had yet to rise above the ghouls, only dealing with VV because I had walked into her club. Tung had played me without seeing me, and even the Prince had only to send an email to make me jump to his tune.

Stopping under a streetlight, I found a map of Chinatown posted there and looked up the Golden Temple. It was only a block away, but with all the people and buildings so close, it was hard to see anything. Heading deeper into Chinatown, I passed the covered entryway into a restaurant called the Red Dragon which was done in the typical style China was known for.

Further down on the other side was a smaller eatery, this one with outside tables being tended to by a very young Chinese girl in a very short-to-the-point-of-being-inappropriate Chinese dress with achingly high four inch heels. She gave me a sharp eye as I passed, almost spilling a bowl of food into a customer's lap when her heel found a crack in the concrete sidewalk. I continued on, even as she got a tongue lashing from the customer I was glad I couldn't understand.

Entering the Golden Temple, I found it to be a zen garden, with carefully manicured grass and flowers arranged in a comforting pattern lit by paper lanterns. The only path though, led into a small hut that was lit by soft light. Hoping I was committing a faux pas, I opened the door to find a Chinese woman sitting in a high backed chair sipping from a porcelain cup.

"Welcome, kindred," she spoke softly, her voice carrying a slight accent and more than a hint of authority, "and thank you for respecting our traditions by announcing your presence in our domain. I am Ming-Xiao, High Priestess to the people of Chinatown. Can I get you anything? Tea, perhaps," she said as she gestured to the serving set beside her.

"No, thank you," I said, frowning as I remembered the sour taste water left in my mouth.

"Ah, that is right," she spoke, as if just remembering something. "Your kind drinks solely of mortal blood, correct? No longer may you partake in the pleasures of the mortal realm. A shame."

"You can?" I asked her, wondering if her asking me for tea was taking a poke at kindred.

"Yes," she said with a slight smirk on her lips. "We Kue-Jin are similar to you kindred in fewer ways than you might imagine."

"But you are vampires?" I asked her. It didn't hurt to have more information on her kind, and this was a rare chance to get it from the source.

"We are supernatural," she explained to me, her voice calm and carrying no hint of annoyance or hatred, more like a teacher explaining things to a questioning mind. "That does not mean we are like yourself. We are beings returned through the Second Breath for a purpose."

"Second Breath?" I asked her and she continued to explain it to me. "The Second Breath, our rebirth into the supernatural form. It is a spiritual awakening, not some lowly blood ritual to spread a despicable curse."

I smiled as she quietly mocked the kindred again, as if she believed the Kue-Jin were the superior species. "But we are similar?" I asked her, silently wondering if she might try to kill me while I was here.

"We share superficial similarities," she explained, her voice neutral. "Kue-Jin feed on essences that can be found in blood, yes, but as we refine our existence, rarely are we lowered to consume the bodily fluids of others."

"So do you choose as a mortal to become supernatural?" I asked her and she shook her head slowly.

"No, we do not choose, but events of our lives can awaken dark spiritual energies. We are not born of the whims of another as the Kindred are."

"Sometimes I wish we weren't," I muttered, then saw Ming Xiao smile as she caught the remark. Realizing I might have let something slip that could be used against me, I decided to change the subject. "Ever heard of the Ankaran Sarcophagus?"

"Of course," she said, her face brightening a bit. "The entire city is alight with news of its arrival and speculation about one of your ancient vampire grandfathers and his evil apocalyptic plot."

"It does sound funny, doesn't it," I said, and her smile deepened.

"It all serves to distract the kindred," she said, and I smiled back at that. "Such a distasteful existence you live, skulking in shadows, fighting for scraps and fearing the return of your ficticious fathers, completely oblivious to your true purpose."

"Do you know the true history of the kindred," I asked her, again she shook her head slowly.

"No, I do not," she admitted, not that I found it surprising. I couldn't tell you squat about Chinese history, other than a certain poem about Mulan and that she killed herself rather than become a concubine for a Hun, or so the ancient story goes.

"Do you know where the sarcophagus is," I said, trying to keep the conversation going. It was really going nowhere, but I didn't want to be rude.

"We seek it, of course. I have two of my best agents looking. It could be a powerful bargaining tool in dealing with the leader of the Camarilla."

"Not if I find it first," I snarked and she looked at me with an intense gaze. I stared right back, the challenge laid down between us.

"Let me just say that I do not encourage you to seek the sarcophagus," she finally said after we had stared into each others eyes for several minutes without blinking.

"I just hope he's better than the scout you sent into Santa Monica," I told her and her eyes went wide. "Oh, yes, we know," I said, pressing my advantage now that I had one. "I was the one who killed him in Foxy Boxes after he sent in his final report."

"An admirable feat," she conceded, working on relaxing her face to make it unreadable again. "Your path must have been stronger than his."

"That time, and while the prince might have me looking for the sarcophagus, I'm currently looking for a missing Nosferatu in Chinatown," I said, steering our conversation further to where I needed it to go.

"So, the great Nosferatu have lost an agent, have they," she said as she became thoughtful. "It was not by my hand, if that's what they think."

"Do you have any idea where he could be?" I asked her,but she shook her head again.

"I don't know where he is," she said, and something in me said she was speaking the truth. "Perhaps you should speak with Wong Ho about this. He owns the Red Dragon restaurant. As a prominent businessman who has garnered much respect among his people, he might know if something is amiss in Chinatown, and may know how to help you."

"Then I'll head there then," I said, bowing slightly to show my respect as I prepared to leave.

"I grant you permission to operate in the Kue-Jin domain, for now," she said somewhat darkly, as if she were wondering how best to kill me. "May you find your path, kindred."

I turned and left her, making sure to close the paper door on my way out and left the temple. I passed by the noodle shop where the young woman had dumped the noodles on a customer, finding the young waitress closing things down for the night. She eyed me as I got closer, as if I had plans on stealing the till and I made sure my eyes were barely open to hide my missing pupils.

"I saw you enter temple," she said with a hard accent, turning with her cleaning cloth to wipe off a table even though it revealed her panty-line in the too-short dress. "I know what you are."

"Is it wrong to be religious?" I said, trying to persuade her otherwise.

She turned and gave me a hard eye again, arms crossing over her chest as she studied me. "My name is Yukie. I am demon hunter. I come to this city for the blood of the demon that kill my master. Do not interfere, my revenge will cut through you if it has to."

"What demon?" I asked her, following her into the shop only to find we were the only one's inside. A quick look around told me the shades and shutters were all drawn, so no one could see inside if it turned violent. Since she was a Hunter, that might happen at any time, which made me worry. I didn't have a gun to kill her with, and there was no telling what she had hidden around here.

"I hunt hengoyokai." she said, dropping the cloth into the sink. The duffle bag on the counter drew my attention, as it's long design gave me an idea she had a sword in there. "My sensei killed demon that killed my family and now I take the life of his killer. I follow trail of corpses from Japan to Los Angeles, but I lose its trail. Hengoyokai is here and it will die here."

"What's a hengoyokai?" I asked, wondering if that might be a Chinese monster like our werewolves.

"Hengoyokai is demon that hides in skin of man, but it is not man," she said, continuing to clean the kitchen as if she actually worked here.

"Why do you continue to actually clean here if you're a Hunter?" I asked her as she began to scrape down the grill with a tool. The little Hunter turned to face me with a look of curiousness and something else. Shame maybe?

"I, need to eat," she said, turning back to the grill as she continued to clean it, continuing on in a low voice. "Even you, demon, must eat to survive."

"True," I said, inching forward to sneak a peak inside the duffle bag, "But I don't dress like a hooker doing it."

The hunter blanched at that, but kept on scrubbing. "How do you spot a hengoyokai?" I asked her, deciding she wasn't going to argue her choice of attire with me.

"They smell like fishes, always," she said, putting the grill back together after cleaning it. "I do not know why, but they do."

"So a guy who smells like fish, shouldn't be too hard," I said, deciding to help the young hunter. "If I find him, I'll let you know."

"Why would a demon help me," she said, turning to face me with a serious look.

"Well, if it's in Chinatown that means its allied with the Kue-Jin," I told her, and she looked thoughtful for a moment as I pressed on, "And if you can kill it, that weakens them that much more and makes it easier for our side to push them out later."

"Demons do not all get along?" she asked and I shook my head.

"For the most part, we don't even get along with each other of our own kind, let alone other creatures of the night," I told her. "Politics don't die when we do. If anything, it gets worse with age," I told her, remembering something Samantha had told me while we were taking a civics course in college. "And when you can't die..." I said, trailing off to allow her to come to her own conclusions. Her face fell as she realized the implications of kindred politics, something I was only starting to realize myself.

"Thank you," she said softly, giving me a wan smile. "Defy your nature as best you can and my sword will have no vengeance for you."

"I refuse to become a monster," I told her, meaning it as I slipped back outside into the night.

I headed over to the Red Dragon, finding it a more upscale eatery than the noodle shop I had just left. The hostess was still on duty, standing at a podium near the entrance to the main dining room. I walked over, and she gave me a sad smile.

"I'm sorry," she said in an apologetic voice. "We're no longer serving dinner this evening. However, our bar is still open if you would like to enjoy a drink."

"Actually, I'm here to see Wong Ho," I told her. "Ming Xiao said I should speak with him."

"Of course," she said, reaching he under the podium with a hand. "Second floor, and have a good night."

The walls next to me opened up to reveal a hidden elevator, and I stepped in. I pressed the button for the second floor, and the elevator took me straight up where the doors opened onto an office setup. A man set with his head in his hands, and I could hear his sobs as he cried softly. I stepped into the room, my heels clacking softly to alert him of my presence.

He looked up at me with red puffy eyes, and his face turned into a snarl. "Do you have my Kiki? Did you take her?!" he demanded as he rose to his feet.

"Whoa," I said, raising my hands in self defense. "I didn't take anyone. Ming Xiao sent me here. I'm looking for a friend who has went missing in Chinatown."

The elder looking man deflated at that, before falling back to the couch in grief. "Please forgive me. The Tong took my daughter, Kiki. They called and said I had meddled with Tong for the last time. Now I am in a most terrible situation. I apologize for my inconsiderate behavior."

"No problem," I told him, as he continued to mourn his loss. "What's going on?"

"The Tong, a local street gang here in Chinatown just broke into my restaurant and kidnapped my daughter at gunpoint," he said, almost sobbing. "The Tong grow more bold every day, and now they have my Kiki!"

"Do you know where they took her?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to get involved in mortal affairs or not. I still didn't much like violence, but the guns that they would use would have little affect on me. My poor clothes might suffer, but I'd survive.

A phone rang, and Wong Ho reached over and picked up the antique looking handset from its cradle. "Hello?" he asked, then brightened some. "Zhao!….Huh?….Yes!….How did you?….Of course….I see….Thank you, my friend. Your debt has been repaid a thousand times over….Yes, of course…. Goodbye."

"That didn't sound like the Tong," I said, stating the obvious.

"That was, someone who owed me an old debt," he said, turning to face me with his face set in a serious expression. "It has been repaid. I know where the Tong are keeping my daughter."

"Just tell me where and call the coroner," I said, deciding I'd help Wong Ho without needing to be asked. I didn't hold with kidnapping, especially what was probably a young innocent girl, and I sure didn't want what happened to me to happen to her.

"Kiki is being held at the Lotus Blossom, a massage parlor here in Chinatown not two blocks away" he told me, his face holding a small glimmer of hope as he wrote down directions to the building. "If you bring her back to me, I will help you in anyway I can."

"She's as good as here," I said, stepping back into the elevator with his directions in hand and went back outside.

It didn't take me long to find the place, but my thoughts along the way went to how to hide the bullet holes I was bound to take when I would be shot up. I finally settled on removing my leather coat, since most of the damage I was bound to take would be to my chest as they shot at my heart.

As the Lotus Blossom came into sight, I wondered why Lasombra would walk without taking a weapon with him. Sure, he was thousands of years old, a walking god quite literally, and had full use of his powers. I had full use of those powers too, as far as I knew, but I didn't know what they really entailed. Something nagged at the back of my mind, then I remembered what Scourge Walsh had told me about the Lasombra being able to mold shadows. Pulling on the shadows as I passed through a darkened area, I molded a full length katana, though it was all black as if had been spray painted that color. The blade felt real in my hand, though it was far lighter than an actual katana.

Before entering the Lotus Blossom, I shrugged out of my leather coat and draped it over my left arm that held my shadowy katana. When I entered, I set it on the counter next to a sparsely dressed woman in her lingerie who I guessed was meant to be both an advertisement and clerk. She looked horrified at the black shadowy katana that was now revealed.

I fixed her with an icy stare, and she shrank away. "Leave now, and live, or stay and die," I breathed, pointing the katana at her. She went wide eyed, then scrambled over the counter in a blur of pink lace and heels and ran out the door.

Leaving my coat where it wouldn't get damaged, I walked through the beads into the hallway beyond. Several guys were playing cards at a small table in what looked to be a lounge. Upon noticing me, they dropped their cards and reached for their guns from their waistbands. Willing myself to move, my body felt sluggish as I watched the men raise their guns, even as I crossed the distance between us so fast that the guy I had my eyes on didn't even have time to aim his just pulled gun. With a slash of my sword, I cut the guys arm off and left a deep gash across his chest before turning my attention to his wide eyed buddies.

I paused for only a moment, taking in the fact that they were aiming in the complete wrong direction even as one turned his face in slack jawed amazement. Pushing off from where I sat, I slashed under the rear most thugs gun to cut the man's chest and neck before following my slash through on the other guy and decapitating him, then kicking his body forward to avoid arterial spray.

It was only as I watched the blood squirt in seeming slow motion that I began to understand what happened. I was moving and comprehending faster than should be possible. Enjoying the power of celerity, I moved out into the hall, finding it filling with men. Using my new power, I made short work of everyone, even as they began to spray bullets into each other trying to hit me making me feel surreal as I slid under guns and defenses to decapitate, maim and kill.

As the men fell silent from blood loss or death, I started going door to door looking for Kiki but didn't find any that held a captive woman. I soon realized that she wouldn't be on the first floor, as the rooms here were either locker style rooms where men would strip their clothes and store them and communal massage rooms. There were still a few attendants around, but I let them live and invited them to flee by leaving the doors open so they could flee.

I continued on up the stairs, pausing halfway up to push my sight into the shadows on the ceiling above the landing to make sure the coast was clear. The sight that filled my vision made me glad I hadn't just barged in, as there were more than twenty men lined up with uzis and ready to fill the first person through with lead. That in itself might pose a problem as the only men I had faced until now had used semi-automatic pistols and revolvers, not automatic weapons.

Willing myself to move as fast as I could, I charged up the steps and swung wide as they began to fire into the mouth of the stairwell. Adding my potence to my attack, I swung my shadow katana in a vicious slash that cut not only the first thugs arms off, but cut him in two at the chest. I then waded into the group, using my medical knowledge of the human circulatory system to slash at arteries as I waded through the gang of Tong.

Feeling my hunger from the exertion, I left the men who held such little regard to human life to die a pool of their own blood as I began to search for Kiki again. As the men fell silent from blood loss or death, I started going door to door again, but the first doors here seemed to hold equipment. Looking closer, I realized it was recording equipment, and I wondered why they'd bother to record a massage.

It seemed strange to me, but it wasn't until I hit play on the camera that and rewound one of the tapes that I understood as I watched the masseuse entice the older gentleman into sex by teasing him sexually. I figure the tapes were being used to probably blackmail clients who had sex with their masseuse, who as I studied one as she cowered in her room, was probably underage and forced to do it or die.

Hunger wouldn't let me leave the cowering woman, so I reached down and hauled her to her feet. She cried, probably thinking she was about to die as I spun her around to face me and then sank my teeth into her neck. Her blood lacked any flavor, but I drank her deep enough that she passed out from blood loss. I left her on the floor, but was still hungry for more blood. Apparently whatever I was or becoming could feed on regular blood, but it did little to satisfy the hunger I felt.

I moved on to the next room, finding another young masseuse there. I drank from her as well, and it finally felt as if I wasn't dying of hunger. Going back out into the hall with a towel, I pulled an Uzi from one of the dead men and cleaned off his blood. The little automatic was surprisingly light, and with what I had learned about using the Glock, soon figured out how to change the clip in it.

Stashing it in my waistband, I went through several of the dead bodies and pulled spare clips for the Uzi out of their pockets and cleaned them with the towel. Then, as I thought of Brian and his little pistol protecting me during the day, grabbed a second Uzi and cleaned it as well and carried that one in my hand as I continued my search. Armed, I went to the last door on the hallway I hadn't already been in, and examined it. It was locked, but a swift kick and a little help from my potence and the thick wooden door broke in two and swung in.

Inside the dark lounge, hung from a hook, was a young Chinese girl with duct tape across her mouth. I approached her, and she give me a hateful look as I reached up and ripped the tape off her mouth.

"You bitch!" she screamed at me, then raised her foot to kick me. I dodged the attempt easily, and she quickly calmed down. I smiled at her feisty attitude, and figured she had been hung there so she couldn't escape. "Let me down, I can't hardly breathe!"

"Kiki, I suppose?" I asked, and she locked eyes with me.

"Yeah, I'm Kiki," she said as she studied me. "Who are you?"

"Wong Ho sent me to rescue you," I told her, then brought a rolling chair over so she could stand on it and release herself.

"Oh, I'm soooooo impressed," she said, mockingly as she leveraged herself up on the chair. "What? Like, you want me to like thank you or something? In your dreams, bitch."

Having had enough of her mouth, I kicked the chair out from under her to let her fall back on her restraints. "If you're going to bite the hand that frees you," I said, turning for the door, "You can wait on the cops and hope more Tong don't show up first."

"Okay, okay," she said apologetically. "You don't have to get all sensitive. I'm sorry. Okay? You know what it's like to be tied up by guys and told they're going to make you a sex slave?"

"You should try being the sex slave," I said, going back and getting the chair. "Not too long ago, I was tied up and gang raped. So, yeah, I know how you feel and you're getting off easy. Now, let's go. I'll take the rope off you later. Let's skedaddle before I have to explain the blood bath to the cops."

"Alright, she said, leveraging herself off the hook and hopping nimbly down to join me.

As we stepped into the better lit hallway, I narrowed my eyes to keep her from getting a good look and led her back down a nearby staircase. It came out back at the beads, with more stairs going down into the basement. Since no one was coming up, I hit the escape bar across the door and entered the hallway across from where I had killed the first three men.

Kiki didn't react to their bodies, and as we entered the lobby, I pulled my coat from off the counter and slipped it back on. Searching behind the counter for a bag, I quickly found one and dropped the Uzi I carried for Brian in it before Kiki and I left the bloodbath behind. Kiki and I were actually a block away when the first cop car screamed around the curve. Kiki pressed tight into me, hiding her bound arms and the cops went right on by. In fact, no one even noticed Kiki was bound until the hostess at the Red Dragon saw us enter. She opened the elevetor, then produced a pocket knife and sliced one of the ropes free so we could start freeing her arms. The hostess then took the rope and threw it away, as I took Kiki back to her father.

I hung back next to the elevator as Wong Ho was reunited with his daughter. It was an awkward situation, and I was just the fifth wheel along for the ride. The two spoke for several minutes, then two broke apart, Wong Ho approached me with a smile, then bowed in front of me in a show of respect as Kiki went deeper into the upstairs maze.

"Thank you, my friend," he said, once he had stood up straight. "I owe you a debt of gratitude! You have returned to me my greatest treasure. Kiki told me how you rescued her. You are a woman of great courage and honor. Again, thank you!"

"Of course," I said, smiling and doing a polite bow for him. "Now, for my own problem."

"Of course," he said, gesturing to his couch where we should both sit. "What can I help you with?"

I sat on the overstuffed couch, with Wong Ho beside. "I'm looking for someone who's gone missing in Chinatown. His name is Barabus, he's uh, a business associate," I said, not knowing any other way to describe Barabus without breaking masquerade.

"I see," he said, then looked doubtful as something crossed his mind. "I do not think I could find him for you, but I know someone who could."

"Where do I find this person?" I asked.

"His name is Zhao," he said, and I recognized the name. "He is the man who called me and told me where Kiki was being held. Zhao has many connections. Some are legal, many or not. I will call him and ask for his help. I would send you to him, but he is currently hiding from the Tong."

"I will return tomorrow evening, then," I said, not wanting to waste any time waiting. I had things to do, and the night was waning. "I have other people to see in the meantime."

"Then I shall expect you tomorrow," he said, rising to his feet.

He escorted me back to the elevator, and I descended to bar area. The overpowering smell of fish caught me, and I followed it into the bar to a corner booth. I smiled inwardly, knowing my body was starting to improve. I walked over, and the man looked up from his beer with a blank face.

"Five hundred up front, another five hundred after the deal. No questions asked or I walk," he said in a flat, and fast, and tone.

"A lot to ask for information," I said, and his eyebrows creased as he studied me. "I seek a man called Hengoyokai. The information I have has led me to you."

"And what would you do with him if you had him," he asked, suspicion in his voice.

"I know a young girl with a big sword who wants to say hi," I said and he smiled at that.

"That's what I wanted to hear," he said with a smile and alarm bells went off in my brain. "If that's your goal, I'd be willing to help arrange a meeting with him."

"Where?" I asked him.

"I was supposed to meet him at the fish market soon," he said, and I remembered it from earlier when I looked at the sign to find the Golden Temple. "You go in my place, but if you do, I hope your intentions are serious. He is a very serious man."

"After tonight," I said darkly, "He'll be a dead man."

He chuckled at that, and I left him to his beer. I figured he was probably the man I was looking for, or like me to the prince, just a junior agent of the same basic species. Either way, I had the chance to make it back to the noodle shop and catch Yukie before she left for the night. I made it there just as she locked the door, a heavy leather coat covering her bare arms and reaching further down her legs than her dress.

"Yukie," I called out, and she stopped to give me a hard eye.

"Demon," she said, her hand dropping to the slightly open zipper on her duffle.

"I found the Hengoyokai," I said and her face lit up. "I'm to meet him at the fish market. We can ambush him there."

"You want to kill hengoyokai with me? Why?" she asked me in a serious tone.

"For the chance to slow down the Kue-Jin," I told her, reminding her that we didn't all get along. "We kill him together, and we can do that."

"If you trick me, I kill you after hengoyokai," she said as came to stand in front of me.

"No tricks, Yukie," I said, smiling a bit and meaning it. "Let's go."

"Walk with me, demon," she said, and she turned down an alley as she cut straight through the buildings.

Oh yeah. Nothing to fear here, I thought as I followed a hunter into the dark and deserted alley. Nothing to fear at all.

We came out right on top of the market, the large building dark and foreboding. I figured Yukie to pull some armor out of her bag and slip it on during our walk but all she did was pull her katana from its scabbard. It wasn't until I noticed that the only click clacking of heels were mine that I looked down to see she was finally in a pair of sensible sneakers. Good thing too, because that girl couldn't walk in high heels, let alone fight in them.

Once we were inside, we made oar way quietly away from the door when the lights came on. The man I had met in the bar of the Red Dragon came out of the stacks of frozen fish at the other end, a smile on his face. As he got closer, I pulled the Uzi from my bag, which made Yukie flinch as I prepared it to fire. I gave her a wan smile as I shouldered the mini stock against my shoulder and faced the man coming to us and hoped the bullets would actually affect him.

"How quaint," he said once he was about twenty feet away and his voice echoing in the empty space. "My hunter, and my target. This is very convenient."

"I'll show you convenient," I shouted back as he began to morph right in front of us, gaining both increased height and mass until he looked like a cross between a man and a giant hammerhead shark.

I let loose a clip off the Uzi before he even finished shifting, then Yukie charged in with a battle yell. She ducked under a swipe from the shark/man thing, slicing deep into his leg before he backhanded her into a shelf. I reloaded the Uzi, dropping the clip rather than pocketing it, and gave him another dose from the lethal weapon.

He gave a shriek, stepping back and raising an arm defensively. Yukie recovered herself and waded back into the fight, slashing at its gut as it was the most sensitive place she could reach. She ducked and dodged several attacks, and when she rolled clear of a ferocious swipe that ripped her leather jacket in two, I give the hengoyokai a third blast from the clip emptying most of the rounds into its face.

In a blind fury, the monster picked up a nearby crate full of fish and chunked it at me which forced me to dive to the side. From the floor, I watched as Yukie made a vicious slash on its wrist that she must have thought would cut the hand completely off, but the bone stopped it. Angry, he yanked his arm back, taking the katana with it even as Yukie tried to get the blade free.

Momentarily, knocked off balance, the hengoyokai swiped at Yukie again, this time catching the petite woman full on with its claws and she flew backwards into the shelves. Angry at myself for not protecting the young huntress, I scrambled back to my feet and willed my celerity and potence to fill my body. I felt the sluggishness that came with celerity, and with a tug on a passing shadow, formed a copy of the big bastard sword the sheriff used to decapitate my sire with.

Only a step or two away, I jumped high on the unprotected man's head and brought the sword down as hard as I could, cleaving a line from the top of the skull to its neck before the thick bones stopped my swing. Using my potence, I wrenched the blade free and brought it around for a baseball bat style swing even as the monster hit its knees. My aim was true, and I took the head clean off in one last swipe.

Dropping the shadow sword back into the shadows now that I didn't need it, I ran for Yukie. The little huntress had tried to get to her feet, but fell back to the floor. I rolled her over, finding several deep slash marks across her front. The cuts themselves weren't deep, but she'd lost a lot of blood already. I cradled the petite woman's head in my hands, and she looked at me with teary eyes.

"I fail," she sobbed, her arms around her middle as if she could hold her blood in.

"He's dead, Yukie," I told her, and she smiled at that. "I got him for you."

"I miss spot in hand where I could cut hand off, or I'd still be alive," she said, then began coughing up pink blood.

"You're going to wake up just fine," I said, and she frowned.

"Do not make me like you," she said, and I nodded once, even though I felt like crying.

"No, not like me," I told her. It was dangerous, but I had to act fast to save her life. "But this is going to hurt," I said, then pinched the open flesh in one of her wounds. She screamed before passing out, and I quickly bit my wrist to let the blood flow out. I let it flow into Yukie's mouth, massaging her throat to make she swallowed, then licked the excess off my wrist as it sealed itself.

Hoping I was in time, I quickly went to the fallen monster and wrenched her katana free, then went back to the entrance where she left her duffle and placed it back in its scabbard. Then I found the Uzi I had dropped it, and placed that in the bag and zipped it up. Going back over to Yukie, I picked up the huntress and shadow stepped back to the mansion to find Brian carrying a bag as a black-eyed Heather helped Constance walk out the door. Brian looked at me for a second before he pulled the gun I had given him and aimed it right at me.

"Don't say a word," he said, his hand shaking a bit as he aimed the gun at the spot between my eyes. "We're leaving. We can't trust you not to hurt us."

I opened my mouth but Brian cocked the large caliber pistol. "Don't, mistress," he said, his voice cracking a bit. "I know I can't disobey, but I'm leaving. It'll hurt, but I don't care. If you say one word to try to make me stay, I'll blow your head open."

Sighing that I couldn't do anything with an injured huntress in my arms, I stepped back out through the shadows and deposited her in the La-Z-Boy. Free of my burden, I then faced off with Brian again who was beginning to sweat as he brought the pistol around.

"Stop," I said, and Brian quit moving. I could see him trying to force himself to keep moving, but he was losing the fight. "Heather?" I asked my other ghoul as she turned to face me and I got a good look at the bruise on her eye. "Who gave you the black eye?"

"You did," she said, and I hung my head.

"You changed," Constance added as she clung to Heather for support. "When you fed from me earlier, it actually hurt."

"It wasn't me," I told them and looked back at Brian where he struggled to bring the gun to face me again. "Brian, put the gun away before you hurt yourself."

Brian did so with a grunt, and I invited them all into the main room. Constance dropped into a La-Z-Boy chair opposite Yukie and eyed the huntress and her deep wounds. Heather also eyed the small Asian woman, and Brian positioned himself in a chair near her feet, looking like he wanted something between us if a fight started.

"First, I should tell you that I'm sorry I didn't bring this up sooner," I said, placing a hand on Yukie's jugular vein to feel it throbbing strong. "Several days ago, I was possessed by the spirit of Lasombra. Now, he seems to be capable of taking over my body, and there's little I can do to stop him."

"So when he takes over..." Constance said, following along with my explanation, "He what? He becomes you?"

"Probably a good way of looking at it," I said, and Heather's mouth fell open. "I'm only back in control now because Jean hit me with her truck because apparently three thousand years ago, they didn't learn to look before crossing the street."

"How long will it last?" Heather asked, and I shook my head. "I don't know. He might take over again before I walk back out that door, it might be a week before he takes over again. I can't say. It might be best if after I wake tonight and we figure out what we're going to do with Yuki that you three make yourself scarce. Might get a motel room or something."

"Any ideas? I can't exactly stroll into the Hilton and put my name down," Brian said a bit sourly. An idea hit me about that, as I thought about Duke and his club. He owned a motel, or so he said, and getting a room or three would be nothing and easily kept off the books. Brian might even enjoy himself in the estrogen ocean the place likely had.

"Check with Duke down at Four-Play," I told him and he nodded in understanding. "I'll talk with him about it, and give him his next dose of blood if he needs it. I'll continue to sleep here, with the door locked for my own protection, and I'll come to you if it's me. If Lasombra rises instead, he'll only have an empty house."

"Good idea," Heather said, as she touched her eye in sympathy. "It's scary how strong you can be."

"So who is she?" Constance asked to interrupt our conversation as Yukie moaned in her sleep.

"Yukie," I said. "She's a hunter that helped me take down a Chinese monster. The problem is, she was nearly killed trying so I gave her my blood to save her life. If she wakes up and I'm not here to stop her, she could kill all of you trying to get to me."

"I could just shoot her," Brian said, and all three of us girls frowned at him. "What? If she's going to try and kill us, I'm supposed to defend us."

"I don't want her killed," I said and he hung his head. "She can be a friend, but things didn't end well before I had to...pass her out," I said, struggling to think as my hunger settled back in. I eyed Constance and her weak state and figured she might need a transfusion just to make it to school on Monday. "So until then, what are we going to do with her?"

"Well, if we had some bondage gear, we could just tie her to a bed and let her sleep until you get back to take care of her," Brian said, and I gave him a sharp look. "What? I had a life too, you know."

"If she wakes up before I get back, and that's doubtful," I said as I took in the deep claw marks on her body and the fact she was still out, "Just let her go if she wants to. Tell her nothing beyond the fact that I saved her life, and she's free to live her own life as she sees fit. Understood?"

"Yes, mistress," Heather and Brian said together.

"Good," I said, then straightened myself up. "Brian, get my bag. I got to pick up my bike, then I'll be back at sunrise. Heather, see that she's gets cleaned up. Her wounds are already scabbing over. She'll likely be healed at noon, but there's no sense in leaving her covered in her own blood."

"Eliza?" Constance said, giving me a smile as I looked to her. "Glad to have you back."

"It's good to be back," I said as Brian returned with my bag. "Oh, Brian, before I go, a present, I said as I pulled the Uzi from Yukie's duffle where I had left it. "Little gift from the Chinatown Tong."

"Sweet," he said, as he examined the lethal instrument and the spare clip I had given him even as I dropped the other one I had kept in my waistband into my travel bag with the extra clips. I paused to take in the moment, then stepped back to my bike as Heather and Brian began to bicker on how to move Yukie to the tub.

There was nothing left of the house but smoldering ruins. I didn't even look around as I climbed back on the Harley FatBoy and brought it to life and pulled out the driveway. Thankfully my attire for the evening didn't go against riding my Harley and I was soon back in Hollywood at the Sin Bin. Flynn was behind the counter with his eyes glued to a woman taking on three men at once, and I just rolled my eyes as I scanned the cards for the bondage section.

Once I found the section I needed, I soon became inundated with the differing variety of products offered, and not sure which ones would work best. It took me several minutes of reading their boxes, but I finally found a corner restrain system that would hug the bed like a sheet and allow me to tie Yukie down so she didn't hurt anyone in her pursuit to escape.

Other thoughts entered my mind after that, like how would we keep her quiet in case people came to the door. A loud stereo only went so far, so I picked up an item called a ball gag that was 'guaranteed to keep my submissive quiet.' My lip quirked in a smile at the boxes claim, but a thought nagged at me. Yukie had already drank once from my wrist, and if she did so two more times, she was mine for life or as long as I wanted her. She was good in a fight, only getting injured when her youth and impetuousness in trying to cut the monster's hand off. Give her another five years, and she'd be truly lethal. Plus, add in that my blood would make her more resilient and stronger…

I shook my head to clear away the thought but it kept coming back. I couldn't force her to become my ghoul like that, but if she chose it, accepted it as a way to become better, that I could live with. I passed over some other bondage gear that was clearly intended for use between lovers, finally finding a set of leather cuffs that would tighten to enclose the tiniest of wrists and be secure. For added measure, they could even be locked with small padlocks that were surprisingly sold right next to the cuffs.

All that left me were clothes for her to wear since her work dress was shredded. I ended up buying her a black robe that was almost thick enough to not be naughty. I was praying that her undergarments weren't ruined and were salvageable, and that this would help get her home. I would worry about buying her more if she accepted my offer, but only then.

Flynn was still watching his dirty movie when I went back to the counter, and grudgingly rang me up. Putting the new items on the Harley, I eyed VV's ghoul as he monitored things outside the club. Figuring I needed to tie things up with VV, I checked my bag to make sure I still had Hatter's script, finding I had everything I needed and usually carried.

I headed over, setting my mind for what was to come even as my own hunger grew. I hated politics, and hated it with a passion, but I would be damned if I let my own hate for the game keep me from coming out ahead. I just wasn't sure if I'd ever win.

Like that ever stopped me before.

* * *

Edit 12-23-2017::: To help clarify, Celerity is the sixth discipline Eliza has shown to have developed since Lasombra raised her blood potency to Methusalah levels and return his advanced powers to him/her. I'll explain that later. For now, please note that Eliza has the powers of Celerity, Dominate, and Auspex in addition to her powers of Obtenebration, Potence, and Presence. It will become clearer in time, I assure you.

* * *

Edit 12-30-2017::: Edited the exchange between Eliza and her ghouls in response to negative criticism. Added the bit about going to a motel and allowing Eliza to come to Heather to get her makeup done.


	36. Chapter 36 - Taking Care of Business

Chapter 36 – Taking Care of Business

October 2, 2004 = Saturday

~Eliza Flores~

Entering Vesuvius was a riot of sound on my ears as VV's DJ had a techno-sounding song running loud through the speakers at what had to be two hundred beats a minute. The girls that I could see were dancing excitedly to the music and most of the customers eyes were glued to one of said girls as they danced half-naked around the room. Except for a guy I recognized on my previous trip. He was scratching at his left wrist and I could see the fresh, fancy cross tattoo he had under a bandage. He glanced at me as I passed, his eyes going up briefly before he broke eye contact with me and looked towards the nearest girl.

I walked on, figuring the man for a hunter. Right now I had to figure he was currently VV's problem, as it was her place. Glancing around as I reached the entrance to the VIP area, I didn't see her. I had to search around to find the blonde kindred sitting at a bar sipping at a red drink in a crystaline glass. I shook my head at her almost blatant breach before noticing a similar setup going by on a waitresses tray, my more sensitive nose smelling the liquor in it.

Smiling at VV's ingenuity, I walked over to the bar and sat beside her, not getting noticed as VV sipped at her blood. "I'll have what she's having," I told the bartender, who smiled at me before dropping to a knee behind the bar. VV sat her glass down, and smiled when she looked at me.

"Look who's back," she purred, as she spun her barstool to face me and intermingle a leg in mine. "Couldn't stay away, could you?"

"Like I'd want to," I said, smiling at our playful back and forth and took in her attire tonight. She was wearing a crimson corset over black stockings and garter belts. "I've a screenplay to sell, if you're buying."

"Why don't we take this upstairs," she purred, as I watched the bartender raise back up, a glass of blood in hand. He set it in front of me, and I picked it up as VV sensually slid from her barstool and took my arm to lead me upstairs.

I went with her, arm-in-arm up the stairs to her private VIP suite and couldn't help but feel short next to VV in her ten inch heels. I flicked the switch to the stairs with my elbow, something in me enjoying my time with the kindred on my arm and I didn't want to lose or waste a precious second of the contact.

Since we were now alone in the private lounge, I opened my eyes fully to the neon lights that lit the room, taking in the lava themed room without the shading my constant wearing of sunglasses had given me. I found I could see the fluorescent bars under the thick colored glass of the stage that made the floor 'glow,' and the gentle glow of the walls and ceiling were accomplished by a thin layer of wallpaper over more fluorescent lights, though not enough to make it seem like it all glowed bright, but in certain sections to allow customers to see by.

VV led me to the sofa, and I sat first which allowed VV to curl up on my lap and press her lady lumps into mine. "So, here we are, alone," she purred, as she wrapped an arm around my neck in an unneeded attempt to keep me close. "David was in earlier, happier than I've seen him in some time. I'll take it that you managed to get his screenplay?"

"He thinks that I'm an agent for Isaac, and that I'll give his screenplay to Isaac for his approval," I told her and her smile saddened a bit.

"I'm afraid that Isaac is somewhat of a legend in this town, and that the younger writers don't understand the art that Isaac considers his movies to be," she explained to me. "Isaac loves his older style films, and many of them have become legend. Films such as The Godfather, Gone With The Wind, Citizen Kane, Casablanca, they're all Isaac Abraham's productions, but he won't authorize just any movie."

"So a vampire movie that almost perfectly emulates our reality..." I said, trailing off as VV put a finger to my lips silencing me.

"Is not something Isaac would ever be interested in, I'm afraid," she said, finishing my sentence. "Michele, maybe, but definitely not Isaac. Thankfully, I'll be able to play this as a rejection and learning experience for David, as I'm sure you have his only screenplay. Correct?"

"I do," I told her, but was unable to reach into my bag as she was curled too tightly around me.

"Would you mind destroying it for me?" she purred, and I nodded. "I can't rip up the product of a man's soul."

"I'll take care of it," I said, and she grimaced at something.

"Did you find the source?" she asked, and I realized that her hatred of violence was what she was grimacing at and what I might have done to preserve our secrecy.

Giving her a warm smile, I told her, "Yes, I did, but I couldn't pull the trigger on him," I said, and she purred in glee that I hadn't let the monster destroy something beautiful for her. "I told him to leave LA, and not come back or I'd have to kill him for what he'd done. It was a Thin Blood that lived on the beach, so I doubt anyone misses him."

"If it had been any one else, they wouldn't have been so kind and for that and I thank you," she said, then kissed my jaw in appreciation. "Now, I think I owe you something," she said, almost breathing in my ear as she did so.

"You can have whatever part of me you want," she said, kissing my cheek as I moved to nuzzle under her ear as my thirst screamed for me to feed, her perfume and its flowery scent an afterthought as I zeroed in on the intoxicating scent of her blood.

I kissed her neck once, before sliding my fangs out and biting into her tender flesh. VV gasped as my fangs pierced her skin, and began pushing away from me. I wrapped my arms around her, and we ended up on the floor as I fed from her. Her blood held flavors my brain wasn't even registering as I sucked mouth-full after mouth-full into my mouth and down my throat,

It wasn't until her blood thinned and was hard to suck out that I stopped, my thirst satisfied. I propped myself up on my arms, as VV moaned on the floor, her eyes unfocused and her arm instinctively going up to her neck to caress the spot where I had bitten her. The moment her hand found the spot, her eyes snapped into focus onto mine, and she moaned.

"Of all the things I thought you'd take from me, my blood wasn't on my mind," she said, the sultriness of her voice now gone. "You do know that feeding from fellow kindred is considered taboo, or so Isaac has told me."

"Damsel didn't like that I'd fed from her either," I told her as I stood up and VV smiled as I extended my hand to assist her back up.

"From what I hear about the Brujah, your lucky to be alive," she said, as she stood up herself, again dwarfing me in her taller heels.

"Damsel is a Toreador, not a Brujah," I said and VV burst out giggling.

"That little tart is an artist?" she finally got out as she continued to giggle. "I've never even seen her at salon, and she's an artist? Who told you that?"

"Damsel herself," I said and VV continued to laugh.

"Did she happen to tell you who her sire was?" VV said as she tried to bring her laughing under control.

"She never mentioned his name," I told her as VV brought herself under control. "Said he was an artist with his words and he had a penchant for beauty, fad of the month type of thing and that he ruined a lot of girl's lives because of it."

"Felix Barker," she whispered, and it brought my head around. Did this guy get around or something? "Yes, he's ruined a lot of girls lives in pursuit of the 'perfect' woman," she said sourly. "I don't know if I have a lot to say on the matter though, he did kind of save me."

"Barker is your sire, too?" I asked her, and she nodded.

"He sired me, oh, ten years ago now," she said and my jaw dropped as VV sat back on the sofa. "It was spur of the moment, and he didn't stay with me but a few days. Michele helped me get the club going soon after, and I changed my name to hide my past. All because he saw me walking down the street and liked me."

"What was the fad at the time?" I asked and she smiled at a memory.

"It was back in the nineties during the Western craze and it was somewhat fashionable to wear corsets," she told me, as her eyes glossed over in memory. "I had been walking down Vine to a meeting and was wearing this fancy styled dress and corset when he saw me. I never did make that meeting, as Barker shanghaied me and sired me. He was less than thrilled to learn the truth," she said, sighing in her recollections.

"What truth would that be?" I asked and she smiled wanly.

"That I wasn't the high-brow woman he thought me to be," she said simply, without adding to it. "I've known for years that he's done the same to other girls, but I never figured he sired Damsel. She just seems so, anathema to art. Did she say why Barker was drawn to her?"

"Well, when she was sired it was apparently at the height of Beatnik fashion, which Damsel still carries with her," and VV's smiled warmed at that.

"That would be Barker's style," she agreed with me. "I guess since she's always seen with the Brujah I just figured she was Brujah herself. Wonder why she never comes to a salon?" she silently wondered.

"Couldn't say," I said as I looked down at her. "We're not really that close, not since the Trial of Jose," I lied, not wanting to betray myself to the gossip circle VV was likely connected to.

"Hmm," she said and I looked at the exit. I did need to get on with my night, as there was so little left. It was getting on four.

"Well," I said, looking back to the stairs, "The night wanes, and I'm a busy woman."

"Do come back and see me sometime," she purred, stretching out on the comfortable couch in a provocative pose. "I do hate being here all alone."

"I'll come back, VV," I said with a smile, and meant it as I disappeared down the dark stairs. The hunter wasn't in his spot when I came back down the stairs, and that set me on edge. He knew from my lack of eyes that I was supernatural, and if he waited for me in the parking lot, I might have a few problems. I ran through my list of options, deciding I couldn't risk losing my bike to theft and needing to get the bondage equipment back to the mansion

At the door, I paused at the empty entrance and scanned the parking lot. Not seeing anyone waiting wasn't a comfort, and I kept scanning the lot for the hunter while silently hoping he just went to the bathroom. Crossing the street, I still hadn't seen him and it was making me uneasy. Being out in the open like this, I was a sitting duck should he try to shoot an arrow into me so as soon as I got to my bike, I hopped on and started it up and practically peeled out of the Sin Bin's parking lot and didn't slow down till I was back on the freeway.

It was almost a mile later before I noticed the car racing up behind me. I gunned the motor in my Harley, but found I couldn't outrun the car. Hitting the next exit, I raced down the ramp and leaned into the hard turn in an attempt to hold my bike. When I finished the hard turn, I could hear the screech of tires where the Hunter followed me.

It was maddening, knowing I had a trained vampire killer following me and as I looked back saw that he wasn't that far away. I took the next turn, turning into some kind of warehousing area and cutting off a semi that blew its horn at me. The Hunter followed my turn, only seconds behind me when I realized I had made a very terrible mistake. Looking ahead for the next turn to escape, I realized the road ended in a cul-de-sac and the only way out was now blocked by a religious fanatic. Blowing straight through the open gate of a dark warehouse, I soon found myself running out of room to run with the motorcycle and was forced to stop.

The Hunter gunned the motor as I pulled up, and I managed to step out through the shadow my bike made as I was out of options and tried to save the bike by pulling it with me. I only stepped to a spot between two semi trailers some ten feet away where I'd be safe from the crash but the bike was no longer under me. I watched as the Hunter slammed hard into the wall where I had been, the Harley I had ridden crumpled underneath the car which was not totaled.

Walking to the driver's door quickly in an attempt to kill the hunter, my hand scrabbling for a gun in my bag, I was shocked to see the Hunter quickly emerge unscathed with a mini crossbow in his hand. Together, me and him locked eyes and brought our weapons to bear on each other and fired, my shot wide and high as I rushed it too much. His shot was true, and only my newfound celerity allowed me to dodge the lethal dart.

His shot wasted, he dropped the crossbow and began to pull a wicked looking short sword from under his jacket. I brought my weapon back to bear, and snapped off a shot but the Hunter shrugged it off as he charged me. I didn't get a chance to aim, instead emptying my clip at the Hunter as he brought his sword high and tried to cleave me with it. I dropped the gun, and rolled, his strike barely missing.

Turning and rising, I managed to tackle him before he could bring that sword to bear again. We went tumbling, the sword falling to the ground as we rolled. I brought my strength to bear, and soon pinned his arms. The Hunter only smiled, then with amazing flexibility for a guy wrapped a leg under my head and pealed me off of him to tumble away.

He was on me in a flash, pulling a stake from somewhere and trying to find a home for it in my heart. I barely got my arms up in an X to block his strike, then flipped him over me. Spinning to face the Hunter, he got back on his feet and we squared off again. He was fast, as fast as I could be with my basic celerity power and he was wily enough to beat my potence ability.

I had one last way of beating him, and with a smile, I slunk back into the shadows of the trailers. The Hunter followed, and I kept backpedaling until we were well within the shadows of the trailers. When shadow fell across him, I stopped moving, letting him think I was going to fight him in the narrow confines we were now in.

Without warning, I stepped into the shadow, coming out behind him and grabbed him with my potence and threw him against the metal sided trailer. The Hunter was knocked somewhat loopy, and I pressed my attack by doing it again several more times. Eventually, the Hunter was so disoriented from having his head beaten again a metal wall that he dropped the stake and stumbled away as he attempted to escape.

Picking up the stake, and knowing that if I didn't stop him he would kill some other unsuspecting kindred, I walked up behind him and spun him around. He tried to swat me away, but his eyes were unfocused and I quickly pinned him against the wall and buried the stake in his heart. His free hand went to the stake, and tried to pull it out. His strength must have waned though, because he was still trying to pull it out as he collapsed to the ground.

I checked his pulse after several minutes to find it was gone, and let him be. Walking out from in between the trailers, I got in the car and backed it off my bike. The nineties model Fatboy was ruined though, it's handlebars bent and fuel tank had a huge rip in it. I sighed in my misery, hating to lose the bike and decided to replace it as soon as I could. Maybe I should

I pulled out my Sin Bin purchases and stuffed them in my messenger bag, then checked out the Hunter's car. He had several duffle bags full of weapons, some medieval and some containing guns and clips, and one that looked like it contained some sort of armor. I took the bags, needing my potence to handle the weight, and walked away from the ruined wrecks of my bike and the Hunters car to where the crossbow had fallen and picked it up. Picking up the crossbow, I packed it in a duffle and shadow-stepped to Four-Play because all I had to do there was call a cab to take me home.

Stepping into the alley, I walked to the door that led directly to Duke's office. Once I opened it, one of Duke's bouncers noticed me and opened the door to the office and let me in while his buddy went to get Duke for me. I set the heavy bags down, taking the one with the modern firepower and setting it on his desk and opened it, pulling out a wicked looking rifle with what looked like a miniature scope that at first glance seemed more like a paintball gun for all the plastic on it. It wasn't until I found the clip that went with it and saw the bullets in it that I realized it was a rifle.

Examining the rifle, I found that the clip snapped into place behind the grip in the shoulder stock, seeming odd to how I thought rifles were supposed to be used. Shouldering the short rifle, I examined it and found the 'scope' was just a fancy aiming guide with a round circle and a small dot, but figured any assistance was better than firing blind.

Setting it in the seat, I examined the bag to find another semi-automatic pistol in a carrying case, though this one was much bigger and heavier than my Glock. Examining this one, I found it said Desert Eagle on the slide where mine said Glock 19. Pulling on the slide, I found it was loaded and that I had just ejected one of its large shells which I caught by snaking my hand. The rear said it was a Hornady .0 AE, which I though bigger than the .357 I had given Brian, and the other end seemed to be hollowed out, though it had some sort of wax there. Finding the release for the clip, I pulled it out and inserted the bullet back in before slamming the clip home in the grip.

Setting it aside, I pulled out the next weapon which I was sure was a paintball gun, given that it had a canister attached under it. It was a crude gun, seemingly homemade and heavy from the metal in it. I examined it, but was puzzled by the small hole in the barrel. My nose picked up the small of something burning and with a shock, I realized it was coming from the gun. Taking the gun back out into the alley, I flipped the safety off above canister and pulled the trigger, only to get the bejeesus scared out of me when a gout of flame shot out twenty feet down the alley.

Taking the gun back inside, I carefully reset the safety and set it aside. It made sense that the Hunters would have weapons like this, but there had to be reasons that they didn't use it, such as difficulties in acquiring replacement fuel or dangerous to reload. Lord knows what the countryside would be like if you fired this off on the brush and lit the hills on fire. Those were bad enough when they were accidental or the cause of bad storms and destroyed millions of dollars before they could be stopped.

I had just set the gun on the chair with the rifle when Duke walked in. The ghoul was wearing a light gray business suit and was happy to see me. "Hey ya doll," he said, cheerily as he shut the door behind him, his eyes falling on the firepower I had set in the chair. "Business been rough?"

"Somewhat," I said, finding that there were more arrows for the small crossbow I had tucked away somewhere. "Had a Hunter after me before I came here."

"If he comes here, I'll make sure my boys break his spine," Duke said defensively as he walked closer and examined the rifle I had recently acquired. "Wow, Steyr Aug. Thought this bad boy got outlawed back in the 90's. Where did you get it?"

"From the Hunter I killed," I said flatly, and couldn't help but think of the Hunter's face as he died. I refused to feel sorry for the man's death, as he had tried to kill me, but I would have to be more careful about such things in the future. If he had led off with the flamethrower, I'd likely be dead now. "He won't be needing it anymore."

"Gun's really don't work on you, do they," he said, as he lifted the small weapon and shouldered it, the small weapon looking somewhat goofy in his hands.

"Not so much," I said, replacing all the weapons in the duffle and setting it back on the floor. I picked up the other duffle and set it on the desk, finding it was a selection of swords, plastic bottles filled with holy water, and stakes, making it the more lethal bag to kindred. Setting it aside, I picked up the third duffle, and examined the contents. It contained some sort of dark blue, almost black, armor, mostly made of leather with metal studs throughout.

"Ever seen armor like this?" I asked him, showing him one of the pieces.

Duke pulled a piece out and examined it, then frowned. "No, looks new though because the leather isn't cracked. And it's female," he said as he held it up, sizing it against my body. "Or at least made for a young man."

"Wonder why he had it then?" I wondered, then put it back in the bag. It wasn't like I could ask him now. "He was way too big to confused with a woman, unless..." I started to say when it hit. Predators and prey. I killed the predator, but what if he had been, until recently, assisted with someone acting as bait? Say, Chastity, a small woman who had until recently been dancing at Vesuvius? "Well, she won't be needing it either," I said for Duke's benefit.

"Good to know you won't be disappearing on me anytime soon," he flatpanned, and I nodded at the grim admission. I had taken on two Hunters since ghouling Duke, though only the last one knew of my existence for any length of time before I dispatched him.

"So, how are things going in the club?" I asked him, trying to lighten the mood.

"Good so far," he said, as he moved to take his spot behind his desk. "Been keeping an eye on one of my new hires. Got a new one, she's got charisma, but she's nothing like Angel or Amber."

"Show me," I said as I moved around the desk, and he flicked through the cameras to bring up a platinum blond sitting between two men. She seemed to be talking with both as she leaned back against the bar, her barely covered chest on display as both men seemed to fight over her. "So what's the deal?" I asked and he spun to face me.

"Blondie on the left is into redheads with big breasts, preferably in the double letter range, while the rich boy on the right prefers petite Asian," he said as if he were discussing menu options and not women. He brought up another shot, this one of a petite Asian woman who couldn't have been over sixteen and leaned back in his chair. "That's his usual girl and after he gets drunk, will gladly take her into the VIP rooms upstairs to get in her panties, if you know what I mean. So far, I have yet to see Sugar take any of my customers upstairs, but instead she takes them into the members area. Not bad for a girl who can't speak."

I studied the screen while my brain worked, and hit on the problem that Duke was presenting me. Bound my order, he could no longer break the girls to do what he wanted them to do by forcing them onto his couch. As such, Sugar was doing the bare minimum to make money, and not putting out.

Still, there was only one way my brain saw that Sugar could pull two men with such different appetites to her with looks alone, and that was by presence. She didn't look like a kindred, but as my own ghouls could attest, ghouls could acquire kindred powers.

"Can you bring her in? I'd like to talk to her," I asked Duke and he nodded.

"Give me a minute, and I'll have her brought in," he said as he got up and went to the door. After telling one of the bouncers to bring him Sugar, he went back to his desk and pulled out a pad and pen from a drawer and placed them on the other side of the desk. I give him a questioning look and he chuckled. "She doesn't speak. Said she had her throat ripped out by a dog a while back. Can't make a sound, but she's had the cosmetic surgery to make it like it never happened."

Nodding in acceptance, I waited while his bouncer interrupted the two men who were about to start a fist fight over Sugar and led her back to his office. As soon as she was headed our way, the two men split up, each one shaking their head as if to clear before going separate directions.

Soon, the platinum blonde entered the office and I got a good look at her. She wasn't very tall, naturally speaking as she wore four inch heels and was still several inches shorter than the bouncers. The hair seemed natural though, and not out of a bottle and her skin was pink and not pale, making her a ghoul instead of a kindred. Her eyes lit up as she saw me though, and it wasn't in any form of glee.

No, she was terrified.

"You know what I am don't you?" I asked her, and she nodded slowly as she inched back to the door. "Who's your master?"

Sugar shook her head, and bolted for the door forcing me to sprint on the tips of my toes to get to the door before she did, and I pinned her there as she silently sobbed and struggled to get free. Using my potence, I drug her from the door and back to the couch and tossed her gently onto its cushions. Knowing she was beat, she curled up on herself and I watched as tears fell down her cheeks.

"Who's your master?" I asked again, while Duke handed her the pad and pen. She wrote something down, and showed it to Duke who was closer.

"She says his name is Felix Barker," he said as he read her note. "She just wants to go home."

"And so Felix ruins another girl's life," I muttered and shook my head. Sugar began writing something else, and when Duke read it, he scrunched his forehead up.

"She wants to know if you're going to take her back to him," he said and I shook my head.

"No," I said, as she pleaded with her eyes to me. "I won't take you back, nor will I tell him where you've gone."

She got up and embraced me at that, and I gave her a warm hug as we rocked back and forth. "Sweetie," I said, and she looked up at me with hope in her eyes. "You do know that it's painful to go through blood withdrawal, right?"

She nodded her head, and that made me wonder where she got her information. "Who told you that?"

Duke gave her the pad and pen again, and she wrote down Remy, which I recognized as another ghoul of Toreador Primogen Michele Riviere. Since Barker was also a Toreador, it stood to reason that they were either closely allied or Michele was Barker's sire, and either was possible. It made me wonder what else was going on, but likely that Barker was going par for the course and Remy was trying to save Sugar as best she could.

"If you get to wanting blood, have Duke get a hold of me, okay? I'll treat you better than Barker will," I told her, and she nodded.

A thought hit me, and I dismissed it. If she wanted to go home, she surely didn't want my blood. "Stay here for a bit, I need to talk to Duke alone, okay?" I asked and she nodded in understanding. I led Duke out of his office, taking the duffle bags with me as we stepped into the alleyway.

Once we were completely out of the club, I turned back to him in the pinkish glow of the coming dawn and stared hard into his eyes. "I've gotten a better look at how these clubs operate, but I can't in good conscience support your desire to rape women to further your own pocketbook."

"If I can't break..." he started to say but I held up my hand to silence him.

"That I have learned," I said as I hung my head a bit. "I've talked with Velvet Velour, and I got her to teach me a bit about the business. One thing I was taught was not to have emotional attachments, and I guess that means I can't say much about how you run this club. My only rule to you now is, you can't kill them. That's one thing I don't want you doing."

"I can live with that," he said, giving me a wan smile. "It's starting to get bright out, so shouldn't you be heading home?"

"Yes, I should," I said as I looked to horizon as it started to glow brighter when I remembered I needed to ask Duke something. "I need a room or three for some of my other ghouls. Something's come up and I don't need them at the house at sunset. They're names are Brian, Heather and Constance."

"Alright," he said from behind me as I scanned the brightening horizon. Soon we would be turning the world over to the mortals, and it was time for good little kindred to slink off into the shadows.

"I'll be in touch," I said as I stepped back into the shadows and stepped out at my mansion in my secret room and set the duffle bags down. No one was around, so I went out through my painting covered exit, only to find everyone sitting around the master bed at a sleeping Yukie. Heather was sitting on the bed, one leg curled under and the other hanging off the side. Brian sat backwards in a hard backed chair at the foot of the bed with his head resting on the top of the seat back while Constance lay beside Yukie who lay there covered in a long T-shirt featuring a howling wolf.

"How is she?" I asked and everyone jumped slightly as they hadn't noticed I was there.

"She's still sleeping," Heather said from the other side of the bed. "I guess we were just hoping if we were all here when she woke up we might better control her."

"I got something that will help with that," I said, as I pulled the bondage gear from my overly stuffed messenger bag. "Brian, go set this up on my bed in my room. I'll bring her down in a bit."

"Yes, mistress," he said as he took the packages and left the room.

After Brian left the room, I sat at the edge of the bed and looked back at the petite young Asian and wondered if I should dump her in a motel room before I was forced to sleep for the night. But, if there were any problems there'd likely be no one there to help her and she'd be vulnerable to kidnapping until she woke up.

Shaking my head, I reached over and lifted her up, finding I barely needed my potence to carry her downstairs. I moved slowly and carefully, so to not bang her head and carried her down to my private room. Brian had the basic straps for securing her to the bed laid out, and I set her down in the middle and he wasted no time in securing her arms and legs.

After he had her arms and legs tied to the four corners, he took the ball gag from its package and put it in her mouth and secured it, making sure she didn't start screaming if she woke up. With that, Brian gave a nod to me and smiled.

"You got the good stuff," he said as he backed away from the bed. "I thought for a bit you might bring back handcuffs with fuzz pink fur all over it, not leather straps."

"Ah, but you forget the best part," I said, as I went to the messenger bag and pulled out the locks that were under the black robe I had bought. "Added insurance," I said and Brian quickly worked the locks out and put them on the leather straps. "Now, unless she's much stronger than she looks, she can't get free. She's not to be abused, but I would say don't let her out either. If she wakes up before I do, try to be nice to her, and tell her I'll let her out when I wake up. In the meantime, I got Duke to let you have motel rooms at his motel. Just go see him for the keys."

"Do you want us to stay there all day?" Heather asked, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"You can if it makes you feel safer, though I'd like to have someone with Yukie if she wakes up," I told them. "I know I'm a bit of a liability with Lasombra's ability to rise through me, and if he does wake up instead of me, he'll kill her if he knows what she is."

"What if I set her free when he wakes up?" Brian said and we all looked at him. He shrugged his shoulders and continued on. "She is a vampire hunter, I say give her a weapon and let her kill him."

"If she does kill him, she probably kills me," I said and everyone oohed at that. "We do share one body."

"It was a thought," Brian said, raising his hands as Heather and Constance gave him a hard eye.

"A bad one," Constance said and I had to agree with her.

"Well, I'm going to shower," I said as I headed back out, letting my ghouls argue about whether or not they'd stay in the mansion tonight.

I headed back up to the master bath, stripping my clothes off on the bed as I watched the sky continue to brighten outside. It was definitely early in the morning now, and I turned off the lights to end my headache as I stepped into the bathroom to begin my shower.

When I stepped out, my gray bathrobe was waiting for me and I slipped it on. Back downstairs in my hidden bedroom, only Brian remained by Yukie's side. He sat backwards on a kitchen chair, his eyes staring holes while he watched Yukie. He jumped a bit when I put a hand on his shoulder, but quickly settled himself back down and continued to watch her sleep.

"Heather and Constance are packing up," he said glumly. "They're going to get rooms today with Duke, and I'll join them tonight, but for today I'm going to watch Yukie. I can't just leave her here with you. What if she got loose? She could kill you before you woke up and then where would we be?"

"Thank you, Brian," I said, feeling the sun rise and the wave of dizziness that came with it. "What was it like when Lasombra rose?"

"She's scary," he said, not taking his eyes off Yukie. "She demands obedience, and will beat you if you screw up. She also has no modesty, and even let me put her clothes on her. It wasn't until after she left that I realized she didn't even carry a weapon out of here, and you come back with Uzis. Boy was Dennis a fool for not becoming your ghoul."

"Thanks, Brian," I said as I moved to the wardrobe they had bought to house my clothes in and sat down beside it so Yukie could see me if she tried. Maybe it would help keep her calm if she knew I was out of commission with the sunrise and would set her free with the sunset. One could hope, right?

It had been a long night though, and I was out as soon as I my butt met the wood floor.


	37. Chapter 37 - Out of the Frying Pan

Chapter 37 – Out of the Frying Pan

October 4, 2004 = Monday

~Eliza Flores~

Waking the next night, I found Brian sitting backwards on his kitchen chair, again. Watching him, I saw him flipping cards and laying them on the desk while I stretched my muscles. It wasn't until I stood up that I saw he was playing solitaire on top of the cover covering up Yukie's tied down leg. When my gaze traveled north, I also saw Yukie was awake, though still gagged, and was struggling to get free.

"Hello, Yukie," I said, and she glared at me as she stopped struggling. "I'll remove the gag if you'll agree not to start yelling, okay?"

Taking her calm appearance as a yes, I reached under her head and undid the buckle that held the ball gag in her mouth and pulled the large red ball free. Once Yukie had full use of her mouth she let loose a string of foreign words and none of it sounded good. Using my free hand, I shoved her chin down forcing her mouth open and reinserted the ball gag and tied it back on. Yukie went back to struggling quietly, but I ignored her and turned to Brian.

"So, everyone at the motel?" I asked him and he nodded, handing me my shades to slip on which had been hanging from the neck of his shirt.

"Yeah, we got rooms with the girls at Four-Play," he said with a smile. "Might end up with some new customers."

"Supplying Duke's girls with blow?"

"Yeah," he said with a chuckle. "They need a pick-me-up to help them and I have it. Doesn't hurt that they're open to alternative payment options."

"Where do you get the cash to pay for it?" I asked him, wondering how he managed to buy drugs when he wasn't getting any money for them. I knew he wasn't getting the money from me, he didn't have access to my bank account yet.

"I sell them at three times what it costs to get them," he said proudly. "Means I need only one paying customer to pay for two girls who prefer to get down and dirty. Works for me."

"And you make no money," I said, and Brian shrugged his shoulders.

"Not everything in life is about money," he said with a mischievous grin. "If you don't enjoy it, it passes you by and you're dead."

"Preaching to the choir," I said with a rueful smile. "So who gave you the idea for that anyway?"

"What? Having paying customers pay for my sexy time? I did," he said proudly. "Back when I first became a pusher, I used to use my money like everyone else and buy it at the street corner. Not a few months later, my good friend Bo, who was also a pusher, caught something Ajax wouldn't wash off from one of the girls. Made me learn fast another way to get my quality time in and not kill myself doing it. And always wear a condom, can't understate the importance of that."

"Ouch," I said, wincing in sympathy. "So how long you been pushing?"

"Aw, gee," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm thirty-two, so been doing this," he said, looking up as he did the math, "Twenty years. Twenty-one years now. I've survived nine bosses."

"How?" I said and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Never had a registered home, no phone or anything," he said as he shuffled the cards as he hit the end of his current game. "Pretty sure the cops want me, but they've had no way of tracing me. Hard to find a guy with no home."

"Well, your home is with me now," I said, meaning it.

"Aww, don't go getting mushy on me now," he said with a chuckle. "I wouldn't know how to handle it. Besides, life is a gamble anyway. I could end up dead or in prison tomorrow."

"Or laid again?" I said with a smile. Yeah, he was bad, but he was loyal.

"Always," he said as he put the cards away.

"Are you going to be quiet now?" I asked Yukie after she quieted down since I began ignoring her. She nodded her head in acquiescence and I unbuckled and removed the ball gag.

"Release me, demon," she said calmly, and I set the ball gag on my dresser since she was being somewhat compliant.

"Only if you agree to something," I said and her face twisted in a snarl.

"I will never serve a demon," she spat, and I shook my head as I wiped the spit away.

"Okay, but that wasn't what I wanted you to agree to," I said and her eyebrows went up in shock. "You agree not to harm anyone in this house, or return to it to cause anybody in it harm, and I'll let you go. I'll even have Brian take you wherever you want to go."

"You will not force me to serve you?" she asked quizzically and I shook my head.

"No," I said and sat beside her. "I told you once that I'm not a monster. I did what I had to to save your life, and that carries some drawbacks to it. Yes, I used my blood. Yes, I could keep you tied up here and force you to take my blood again and again until you are my slave, but that would make me a monster. I just didn't want you killing my servants."

"If you release me, I will not harm anyone here," she promised and I nodded at Brian who pulled the cover off her to reveal the restraints.

She calmly waited while Brian undid the restraints, stretching what had to be sore muscles from being tied up all day. Once she was free, she sat up, rubbing her wrists as she examined her surroundings. She hobbled to her feet, examining the wall before she turned to me.

"Is there toire?" she asked, then shook her head. "I mean, restroom, here?"

"Brian, show her the master bath on the ground floor. I'll see her in the Great Room upstairs before you leave," I told him and he nodded.

Brian took her arm, leading her out of my bedroom. She had to hobble, probably because she really had to go since she'd been tied up all day. The moment they were out the door, though, I stripped off my bathrobe and began looking for my clothes. I didn't bother with a shower, since it seemed I had so much to do, and I had showered before sleeping. I found a pair of pink panties and a matching bra in separate drawers, and slipped them on. I opened another drawer to find a pair of socks and threw them on the bed for later, then went to my wardrobe.

I didn't know what all I had anymore, but I found a selection of business suits, long sleeve blouses and skirts hanging up. I picked a robin's egg blue blouse out, mainly because it looked cheap along with a dark gray light pants that looked equally cheap. I slipped them on, hanging the hangars back in the wardrobe for Heather, then went back to the bed and put on my socks.

Once I had my socks on, I hurried to get up to the Great Room on the ground floor before Yukie thought I was delaying her. She was just coming out of the master bedroom when I reached the top of the stairs, and I led the way in. My painting was being nice today, and was sunbathing in a chaise lounge, but otherwise not moving. I took a seat in a recliner, and Yukie sat opposite me, while Brian stood by my shoulder.

I watched as Yukie took in the room, and she seemed awed by it all. "Your home is so big," she breathed finally, her eyes settling on my painting just as it rolled over to lay on its stomach. She continued to watch it, but it no longer moved, and looked like a normal painting again.

"I'm still making payments on it," I said with a chuckle. "I might be a vampire, but it doesn't mean automatic wealth."

"I see," she said, as she brought her eyes back to me. "What did you do to save me, and what does that mean to me?"

I nodded, figuring it was a fair question for her. "I gave you my blood, but since you weren't dead it didn't make you a vampire like me. During the next few days, you might develop one of my powers, but you won't keep them unless you take more of my blood. If you do that, you become one of my servants, doing anything and everything I say until something kills you.

"You can leave now, tonight, and go back home with minimal problems," I told her and she looked curiously at me. "Sometime in the next week you're going to feel an urge to return though. That will mean you want more blood, your body will crave it like an addiction. If you don't want to be my servant for the rest of your days," I warned her, making direct eye contact so she knew I was serious, "You'll need to keep yourself away."

"If I do," she asked, her voice wavering in the seriousness of the situation, "If I return, even though I tell you now that I don't want to be your slave, will you still make me drink your blood?"

"If you ask for it," I said and she hung her head in thought. "I won't make you do it against your will, but if you return, if you are weak, you will enslave yourself."

"Will you ever seek me out?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"Not unless I need help destroying another creature of the night," I told her. "I'm not a monster, and I would only seek you out as a Hunter to destroy a creature I might not be able to handle alone."

"That is, acceptable," she said. "I promise you that I will not return to this house in anger, and thank you for saving my life."

"You're welcome," I said with a smile. "One thing I would ask of you before you go," I told her which caused her face to pinch in worry. "I found some armor with a hunter that would seem to fit a woman about your size. Would you care to look at it to see if you could use it?"

"Hai," she sod, nodding in acceptance. "I could use some replacement armor since mine was stolen. I had thought that I would have to learn to fight demons without it."

"Well, we know how that went," I snarked and turned to Brian. "In one of the duffle bags I brought home with me is the armor. Would you bring it to me?"

"Sure thing, mistress," he said, then left in a hurry to go get the duffle bag. He was only gone a minute, while me and Yukie sat in the silence. She returned to watching my painting, who began to stretch in various various yoga-like poses, once again sans clothing. I could only shake my head at the shameless painting, who promptly began to display my bare backside to Yukie.

Yukie looked away, blushing, her cheeks only getting redder when she caught me smirking at her. "Your painting is haunted?" she asked, trying to change the subject away from my bare naked painting.

"Magical, not haunted," I told her. "It was given to me as payment for helping stop some of my fellow kindred's destructive behavior to innocent people. You heard about the mysterious plague that hit Los Angeles recently?" I asked and Yukie nodded. "Well, I stopped it, and that painting is was my payment so that I might see myself again, even if she does love showing off all of my body." I said as my painting smiled and flipped me the bird as she continued to stretch and pose in the nude.

"She has clothes she can wear?" Yukie asked and I nodded.

"Yes," I said and Yukie looked again just to have my painting do a big toe pose for our benefit. Yukie quickly turned away, the blush on her face deepening and I took pity on the hunter. "Alright, you've shown off my body enough. If you want to continue posing, put on some clothes or I'll have to have you rolled up and put in storage."

My painting scowled at me, but shiny black leggings and pink mesh sports bra appeared on her. I give her an intense look and she rolled her eyes as she made a skin-tight gray tank top appear also, along with a pair of blue slip-on trainers. She went back to her stretching, and Yukie looked at it for a moment before turning back with a look of wonder on her face.

"She obeys me somewhat," I said, suppressing a giggle. "Mostly I think she's just lonely."

"She cannot leave the painting?" Yukie asked and I shook my head.

"It's all she is, paint and canvas," I told her as I heard Brian coming back up the stairs. "I don't even know if she sleeps or dreams, but she is capable of seeing out. As such, she is capable of mirroring my looks and acting as a mirror of sorts."

"You have no reflection?" she asked and I shook my head.

"None whatsoever," I told her. "I'm even invisible to cameras, which makes getting into places that rely on them a breeze."

"So how do you do your make-up and hair?" she asked me.

"I have a ghoul that does it for me," I said as Brian came back in. "You didn't get to meet her, but she's away…taking care of something for me," I told her, not wanting to tell her that Heather was hiding in case I turned into a monster again.

"And I'll be joining her later," Brian said as he set the duffle bag down in front of me on a table. I gave him a shut up look, which he caught and pursed his lips together as he straightened back up before letting his face go blank.

"She is in trouble, yes?" Yukie asked, and I shook my head.

"Just running errands," I told her as I opened the duffle. "Brian will be joining her as he has her car."

"Ah," she said as she eyed the chest piece of armor I pulled out of the duffle. "That is my armor!" she exclaimed, coming to her feet and snatching the piece from my hands. She set it aside, quickly pulling other pieces out. "Where did you get this?"

"Yesterday, after I saved your life," I told her and she fixed an intense gaze at me that made me uncomfortable, "I was attacked by a hunter."

"You kill?" she said in a serious tone as she began dressing herself in her armor and I nodded.

"It was him or me, and believe me I tried to get away," I said, remembering my crushed Harley Fatboy. "It cost me my motorcycle, and once he had me on foot, I was trapped. I'm sorry, but fanatical hunters aren't my problem. I treat them as I would anyone else. They attack me, they die. I would like it if no one tried to kill me, especially you."

"I see," she said, as she tugged on the armored leather pants. It suddenly made sense why she was gearing up; it was for her own modesty.

I made up my mind then that if she attacked me, I was taking her down without killing her and tying her back to my bed. She was already past her first drink of blood, and in a few days she'd be needing her second dose and I'd get a better measure of control on her. "He pursued you, and only when he had you cornered did you kill him. It is...understandable. You are not bad demon."

Relief flooded through me that she didn't want to argue the point. "I found this in his car, along with a few other things, that I took. Some of it could be used against kindred, like crossbows and stakes. If you want, I'll let you have a few of those items as well. As I said before, I would rather have you as an ally then enemy."

"Alright, demon," she said, a small smile forming on her face as she lashed a pair of leather arm guards onto her arms. "We have truce between us. I will not kill you as long as you are honorable, and you stay honorable."

"Deal," I said, getting up from my chair and extending my hand. Yukie extended hers and we shook in agreement. "Follow me and I'll get you weaponized again," I told her, moving past her and leading the way back to my private room. I hated to show it to anyone, but I had the woman under some control at least, and we did have a truce. If nothing else, I'd be sleeping with the door locked until I knew one way or another what would happen with her.

Inside my room, I pulled out the duffle that had the medieval weaponry and began laying out pieces. Yukie went wide-eyed at seeing the small wooden crossbow, and she lovingly caressed its polished wood. "This was my sensei's," she said, as she began checking it. "Yoi, it still works," she said as she cocked it. Taking one of the small arrows, she fitted it into the arrow slot, then slung it on her back.

She then picked up the small pouch of arrows and fitted it to her belt and tied it to her left thigh. Several of the stakes went inside it, then she tucked a few in her arm guards. When she picked up a bottle marked holy water, she raised an eyebrow at me before sniggering. "Do people think this works?"

"It's Hollywood movie bull," I told her and she sniggered again. "Like garlic and crosses, useless."

"Head and heart," she said, and I nodded.

"Remove the head, or destroy the heart," I said with a smile as I guessed at the significance of the saying. "Since you don't want to stay, Brian, could you take her where she wants to go, please?"

"Sure thing, mistress," he said. "I got Heather's car in the garage. Oh, and Rochelle brought a package for you. It's in the bottom drawer of your dresser."

"Thank you, Brian," I said as he started to leave my room with an armed and armored Yukie in tow. I could only wonder what Walsh's ghoul would deliver during the daytime.

"Come on," he said, motioning for Yukie to follow him. "Where do you want to get dropped off at?"

"My home is in Glendale," she said as they went down the hall. "I will show you where."

I listened as they went up the stairs, the quietness allowing me to hear their conversation. When they hit the main floor, I opened my bottom dresser drawer to find a large brown paper parcel tied with string. There was an envelope attached to it, and I pulled it off the package, opened it up and read the contents. It was from Walsh, and it contained my drivers license which included the endorsement needed for motorcycle driving. The woman in the picture did resemble me as if I'd had a bad hair day when I took my picture, to which I was thankful. At least if I were pulled over the cop wouldn't ask too many questions. He also let me know my license set me back five hundred more bucks, because of casting costs.

Tucking my license away in my pants pocket, I set the envelope to the side and opened the brown paper package to find my new checkbook. It was a business style setup, with a running register on the left hand side and three checks stacked on the right side of the page. Checks were removed similarly to personal checks by perforated edges, just along two sides now instead of just the top. I removed several of the checks, sticking them in my pocket along with my license and finished getting ready for the night ahead of me.

Looking down at what I already had on, I went to my shoe selection and slipped the two inch black pumps on my feet that I had been wearing when Lasombra was in control. Hunting around, I found my leather belt and put my Glock's holster at my back in its usual location and felt a little easier at its weight on my belt. Going through my inventory of weapon's made me appreciate the normal life a bit more, when I would have abhorred the idea of owning half of this stuff.

My mind went to my complete lack of bullets, and figured I'd best head for Larry's before I started to get shot at again. Putting on my coat, I picked up my cell phone and had the cab company come out to the house so I could take a ride into town.

While I waited on the cab I slipped most of what was in my messenger bag into my dresser, with the rifles and flamethrower going in the wardrobe. The only things I kept were the 44 Magnum, the Desert Eagle and the Uzi with it's six spare clips, which I placed in a pouch under the flap along with the two spare clips for the Glock I carried at my back. I was hoping that the tight confines of the compartment which was designed to haul things like accounting calculators and paper tablets would keep the clips from rattling and giving me away.

I took the makeup kit with me and set it near my painting. She saw the makeup and made a happy fist pump before mirroring my outfit. Settling herself down, she began to mirror me as I applied the concealer, base, eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick and blush. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than guessing. Once I had the makeup done, I took stock of my hair and did that up in a ponytail and tied it with a scrunchie. It would hold if I had my bike, but remembering my loss sent me a shiver down my spine. I came too close to dying that night to suit my tastes.

I needed a new mode of transportation. Problem was, cars were too clunky. Sure they could haul more, but a stock sport bike could outrun any stock car on the road, as evidenced by the many news reports I had watched where police had tried and failed to catch a speeding bike. Even choppers could hardly keep up if they got on the freeway and hauled.

I checked the phonebook for motorcycle dealerships to check on a replacement for my Harley. I couldn't help but think that if I had a faster bike I might have outrun the hunter when I hit the freeway. Problem was, I had pushed the big bike about as fast as it could go, but that was only in the eighties. I need something faster.

'Something like a crotch rocket,' I thought as I looked through the yellow pages at the motorcycle dealerships. It wasn't all that different than the average motorcycle, but the better ones could smoke any car on the road in a heartbeat and reach speeds over a hundred eighty miles an hour. If I had a bike like that, I could have escaped long before it got to the point it did. At least now I could afford it.

One of the ads caught my eye, a Kawasaki dealership in Rodondo Beach was featured to be open till eight. I looked at my phone to find the time was still about six thirty, so I had time to get there. Slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder, I stepped out just as the cab entered the drive. I smiled at the driver as I climbed in the back seat.

"You know the Kawasaki dealership in Rodondo Beach?" I asked and he nodded. "Step on it." I said and he nodded. He got me there pretty fast, taking just over thirty minutes, and dropped me off in front of the red and gray brick brick building. I paid him by Walsh's card, and stepped out to check out the bikes that were on display.

They were mean, sporty looking things, the bikes they had on display, and I began perusing them. The controls on them seemed close to identical to the Harley, and I figured I could intuit one into starting if I had to, so I wouldn't look like a fool. Soon a suave man in skin tight leather and mesh shirt approached me, his eyes trying to check me out from behind dark colored shades. "Heya babe," he drawled as he put his arm around my shoulders. "Looking for a bike or a boyfriend?"

"I don't do boys," I told him in a serious tone and he quickly removed the arm. "Wrecked my ride trying to outrun a guy, and need something with oomph to get back at him."

"Alright," he said, no longer drawing his words. "Couple of questions. One, how much can you spend? And two, how much can you handle?"

"I'll drop fifty grand on it tonight if I can drive it out of here," I told him and he smirked at me. Not liking his attitude I continued on. "And I can handle anything you got."

"Then we should talk the Ninja ZX-12R," he said leading me inside. "Hottest thing to come out this decade, and it leaves that Suzuki Hayabusa begging."

"Great," I said as he led me to the center display where a large black bike sat. I took it in, noting the thing was far larger than my Harley Fatboy. I moved closer, checking out the instrument cluster and that the speedometer topped out at one-ninety, unlike the Fatboy which topped out at a buck-twenty.

"How fast does it go?" I asked, deciding to cut out any questions I had about its speed.

"Stock goes a hundred eighty-six," he said, and the definite number drew my head up. "We got a lot of flack for selling bikes that can break two hundred when no country allows them to go half that fast, so now they come stock with limiters. You can get an aftermarket part fitted on it that removes the limiter, making it go faster, but its a suicide run unless you're on some sort of track or an expert rider."

"Dodging in and out of traffic?" I guessed and he nodded his head.

"She can do it if the rider has the reflexes," he said making me smile as I remembered how slow things moved with my celerity. "She's more nimble than the Hayabusa, and brakes better. I took one out on a ride through the hills, and she dives into the corner like a lynx after its prey. She's also easy to correct if you dive wrong, always giving you an out."

"I'd like to take her for a test run, if you don't mind," I asked him and he nodded his head with a smile on his lips.

"Just need your ID," he said, and I slipped mine out of my pocket and handed it over. He soon came back with a key and handed both it and my license back to me. "She's five hundred and fifty pounds, so I'll just heft it off..." he began to say, as I reached down and hefted the bike off its stand with my potence.

I tossed a leg over and settled into the seat as the salesman stood there slackjawed at my display of raw strength. I was able to take my license from his limp hand and tuck it into my coat pocket without a problem, the action seemed to shock some sense into him and he handed over the key when I stuck my hand out for it. Starting the motor with a roar, causing what few people were browsing to suddenly look my way. I popped it into first gear, the sudden grabbing of the clutch and the stickiness of the tires had me doing a wheelie out the front door. Since I was too used to having my feet forward on the Harley, I accidentally hit the shifter as I brought my feet back to the pedals, kicking the bike into second while I still had the front wheel up while going through the doors.

Willing my body to respond faster, the world seemed to go into slow motion as I did a brake check to bring the front tire down and nearly lay the bike on its side as I crawled through the turn. My speed boost was initially confusing, as the slow screech of tires hit my ears and I realized I was accelerating through the turn as if I were doing a hairpin curve on a race track with the exit being the street where cars were humming along. I didn't even get the chance to gauge my entry as my hard curve took me into the street and I quickly brought the bike up and dodged right between two cars to split the lanes with oncoming traffic mere inches away.

I quickly caught third, the Ninja leaping down the street and the speedometer climbing higher. I was now passing cars with ease and at the next intersection, I braked and downshifted, turning hard into the curve much as I had done my Harley and the tires screamed right through, allowing me to execute a perfect ninety degree turn at over fifty miles an hour.

My face lit in glee as it dawned on me that with a bike like this I could outrun a car with ease. With the interstate ramp coming up fast, I took the one on my side that led to Long Beach and once again screamed through the curve. Once I had it on the interstate, I opened the throttle and blasted through the gears, and soon once again I was needing my celerity to dodge the traffic as I held it near one-eighty. Cars seemed to scream past me the other way as I roared down the highway, and as I saw a break in the median come up, geared down and did a quick U-turn to go back the other way so I could return and pay for the bike.

Pulling back into the store, I saw the salesman I had been dealing with, minus his sunglasses, getting chewed by a man in a polo shirt. I killed the motor by turning off the key, letting the bike coast right up to the pair before dropping the kick stand, never having put a foot down to steady the bike as it was so well balanced.

"You don't just let a customer peel out of the store like that!" the man in the polo yelled at the salesman, taking no notice of my quiet entrance.

"I followed protocol and she just amazed me by lifting the Ninja right off on her own," he shot back. "I didn't even get the chance to go over protocol with her! She just peeled out and split!"

"Guys," I said, gaining both their attention. "Rides like a dream. I'll take it."

The two men went slack-jawed at seeing me, the polo-shirted manager finally regaining some composure. "Very well. Andrew, check her credit score and get her approved on a loan."

"But," my salesman Andrew started to say but the manager cut him off with a sharp look.

Taking my salesman side in this argument, and to preserve what time I had tonight, I cut right in before the manager could say anything more. "I won't need a loan, or have my credit checked. I'm paying for it in full today by check."

"I assume it will clear," he said in a condescending manner.

"It better," I said, dropping the smile off my face. "I have a beachfront Malibu mansion on almost a full acre, and not having my checks clear would be a big problem for me."

The managers face went slack as he found out he was dealing with a millionaire who could probably by several of these bikes without a problem. He also probably figured there was nothing he could say that would salvage the situation on his own, so he just turned on his heel and walked away. Smart man, because his attitude was grating on my last dead nerve.

"Let's go fill out some paperwork," he said, as I slipped off the Ninja.

He led me to his desk near the rear of the store, and we began filling out the paperwork, mostly by him. All I had to do really was sign the dotted lines on about twenty different pages to acquire what I thought was a modestly priced motorcycle. I priced a car once for thirty grand, really liking the options it came with, but ended up with my little red Mazda for two grand instead as that was all I could afford. This Ninja though, only set me back twelve grand, including registration fees, and the salesman assured me that the tag would be sent to my mansion in the mail. In the interim though, he had a temporary tag for me to use that he attached to the bike for me.

So it was that when I sat back back on my new Ninja not an hour after arriving, that the clock was reading just past eight. I ran a hand lovingly over the shiny black finish, then decided I needed to get on with my night. Starting it up, I headed for Larry's truck in downtown LA to get some bullets for the hardware I carried.

Larry was easy to find, sitting on the back of his truck working on what looked like a modified Uzi. It was bigger than the gun I had, but the clip seemed to go in front of the trigger like a rifle. I shut the bike down, and Larry's face broke into a big smile when he looked up and saw me.

"Baby girl!" he shouted, standing up with the gun in his hand. "Just working on this MP5. Got it from a buddy of mine, but its all jammed up. Sucker needs to learn to clean his weapon or he don't deserve no weapon at all. So what can I do for you tonight?"

"Need some bullets," I said as I got off the bike. "Need them for my Glock, a 44 Magnum, an Uzi, and I think this is a Desert Eagle," I said, showing him that gun I had taken from the hunter.

"That's some real commando gear you're stocking up on," he said as he opened the back of the truck up. "You ain't just using that stuff for keeping the neighbors away from your shit, is you?"

"Oh, let's see," I said as he began pulling boxes of ammo out and tossing them to me to sit on the rear of the truck. "I fought Andrei, the Sabbat leader and destroyed his little monsters, then cleaned them out of the sewer. I managed to fight a building full of Tong and survived two hunters."

"Damn, baby girl," he said with a smile. "I thought I used to be the go-to-guy for stomping mudholes around here. Must be getting old."

"Older and wiser," I assured him as he brought the last box to the back of the truck.

"You know, I could use a hardcore, pimp killin' Cleopatra Jones for a super-sized score," he said as he jumped down with his MP5. "Straight up Pam Grier style. Still wi' me?"

"You've got my attention," I said, wondering what he had in mind. If it didn't take too long I might do it just for the benefits that might come with it. Say a discount on future purchases. I had no problem against killing low-lifes like Russian Mafia and Tong, especially since both were prone to ruining people's lives. I considered it more like community service than murder.

"Here's what's going down," he said, hunching down a bit and getting conspiratorial. "I have a client who's hired me to get a briefcase for him. Group that's got it is a bunch of local Russian Mafia boys. They're trying to sell it some Chinatown Tong. Meeting will be going down soon at a parking lot not far from here at nine. I was just about to go bust that meeting up, when you arrived.

"Now, I can't tell you what they's exchangin'," he said, and I smirked at that, "but let's just say a client of mine is ready to drop some Uncle Sam-sized bucks to acquire what's in the Russian's briefcase. You get it for me, I'll not only gi' you a cut of five grand, but I'll roll out my special stock as well. Now how dat sound?"

"I'll do it for that and a discount as well," I said, and he smiled.

"You gonna shake me down like that, huh?" he said with a smile, then nodded. "Alright, you get the briefcase, and I'll give you a discount on top of everything."

"Alright, I'll do it" I said and he started laughing.

"Yeah, that's what I like to hear," he said as he sat back down with the MP5 and began to slide the internal bolt back and forth. "Now if your the straight-out, hard-boiled terminator type, I'd suggest you buy some heavy firepower 'fore you roll up to the parking garage. You need anything?"

"I'm good," I told him as I started to pull out my clips to load them. "How much for the bullets?"

"Since you about to do something for me that may make you need them, no charge," he said as he started to spray oil in the inside of his gun. "Let's jus' call it an investment."

"Sounds good," I said as I loaded up. Larry whistled at my Uzi when I brought it out to change out the clip with a freshly loaded one and so I could load the one that was in it. I was just finishing up loading the Desert Eagle when Larry spoke up again.

"Place you're headed for is over at Fourth and Grand, southwest of here," he said, telling me where to be as I stashed the extra bullets in my messenger bag. "Place is called the Ampco, got about five stories on it. One way in, one way out. Client don' care if they know you stole it or not, so if you walk in Cleopatra Jones style and wipe 'em all it or play it cool and walk out without anyone knowing who stole it. I'll be here waiting."

"It won't take long," I said as I climbed back on the Ninja and started it.

Popping it into gear, I cruised west towards the parking lot, soon finding Grand, then moving south to find Fourth Street. The building in question was marked by a big blue and white sign, and I headed inside only to find the first ramp up blocked by a brown Ford Focus parked across the ramp, two men leaned against it. The older of the two was an overweight man in a suit while his younger friend was an Asian kid in an oversized hoodie.

I idled my bike right up to the pair, and the overweight one held up his hand to stop me. "That's far enough," he said, then reached into his suit and pulled out his wallet and flipped a badge at me. "Detective Cross. We have an active crime scene upstairs and we can't allow anyone up. If you want, you can park over there."

"Oh, thank you detective," I said, walking my bike back so I could turn around. I idled my bike over to the empty spot and shut it down, leaving it on the kickstand and taking the key with me.

I walked out of the building mainly because the cop and his friend were watching me. Not that I believed for a minute that the other guy was a cop, most likely he was Tong and was just making sure no other person showed up to crash their party. Once I was out of sight, I ducked into the shadows, sneaking my way back in to hide behind the cars. I could see the two still standing by the car, and as I scanned the wall for the stairs up, saw there were none. It really was one way in, one way out.

My gaze went north to the ceiling and the shadows there. With the darkness of night, and the light shrouds all focusing the light down, making the ceiling dark. Pushing my sight into the shadows, I jumped to a spot above the supposed cop, then up the ramp. More thugs were spread out here, and the divide between the two became clear. They were watching each other, waiting for the deal to go down in their favor or they'd be standing by to take it by force. One thing was for sure, all the cars that were around gave plenty of cover if it devolved to that point.

One side of the upcoming fight seemed to be the Russians, all white males, probably with Russian ancestry as they were mafia, in at least business casual with no gun visible. The other side was the Tong, all Asian males in hoodies carrying bats and metal pipes. They guarded everything, and eyed the other side suspiciously, but it was as I watched them it made a kind of sense. If one side was making a deal, and the other side was buying, but neither side trusted the other and we are talking chips-to-a-secret-missile level of seriousness; yeah, this was bad.

Pushing from the ramp across the lot to the ramp on the other side, I kept finding more thugs on both sides. The third level was the same, though here, they'd taken up a more group on group view instead of being scattered around. The fourth level would have had me raising eyebrows, if I had any as a shadow, as I took in the sight. The men carried their guns openly, and they looked fresh from a military armory as they faced each other.

I was about to push to the last level when my ears picked up the sound of gunfire. With that one round, the building erupted in a rumble like thunder, and I dropped my extended vision to return to my body just as gunfire erupted between the man and his friend. I looked over the top of the car to see the kid in the hoodie fall as the 'cop' shot him several times, and I reached behind my back for the Glock and drew it.

Coming around the car, I shot the cop before he even noticed me. After he fell, I took the badge from his coat pocket, figuring it might cause some indecision if I flashed it as I moved up the ramp. I did my best to imitate the cops in the movies and keep my Glock leveled for threats while moving, figuring I was less likely to get surprised that way. When I hit the top of the ramp, I hid behind a nearby car to take in the scene. Sporadic gunfire still erupted between the two sides, with the Tong close to me and the Russians on the far side.

Taking aim, I shot the first Tong to expose himself to my line of fire, prompting several more to spin and shoot towards me. More gunfire erupted as they stupidly stood and moved closer to my hiding spot and the Russians cut them down. I moved closer to the Russians, as they spread out.

"Nick! Nick, you okay?!" one man called, probably looking for the man that identified himself as Detective Cross. I let the men get close, reloading my gun with a fresh clip before I opened fire. Taking a peak around the car I was hiding behind, I saw the line of Russians get close to where I had been hiding as they passed my current hiding spot, likely following the bullet holes the Tong had inflicted when they opened fire on me.

"Nick!" a man in a gray suit called again and I came around the car and opened fire, taking the five men down as I emptied my clip in their direction. The men fired a few shots wildly, as their bodies spasmed and triggered their guns accidentally.

Once the last man fell, I slid along the wall, making sure to keep myself hidden in case anyone was left alive. I also eyed the guns of the dead as I moved, noting thirty-eights and a few Glocks among them. The Glocks I relieved of their clips, searching the bodies for spares and coming away with six much needed extras. If I had been thinking of it, I might have asked Larry about more clips, but it slipped my mind.

As I approached the top of the ramp to the third level, I could still hear the rip of multiple guns above me, though it seemed like it was more on the fourth level than third. I pulled the shadows around me like a cloak as I approached the top, seeing three Tong guys aiming pistols towards the ramp. At the far end, I could see more Tong with the ramp sealed off signifying that maybe the Russians controlled the fourth level.

I aimed my Glock and shot the first Tong dead between the eyes before I dove for cover behind a large SUV, his two buddies yelling something I didn't understand before filling the area with flying lead. I hunched low behind the SUV, then had an idea and crawled under it to get a tire between us. The Tong didn't take notice fast enough, and I shot the second man low in the throat before his buddy tried to turn and run. I emptied my gun into him as he fled, my bullets seemingly doing little harm as he ran.

I crawled out just as he scrambled back to his feet, and I dove behind the car his two buddies had hidden behind as he tried to kill me. Stashing my Glock in my bag while I scrambled for a replacement pistol. My hand found the Desert Eagle, and I drew the large gun. The moment the Tong thug ran out of bullets, I came over the car with mine and aimed straight for the guys heart.

His eyes went wide as he scrambled for bullets to his semi-automatic pistol, and I fired. My bullet made him dance back, tripping him over his own feet. I thought for sure I had him that time when he got to a knee as I came around the car, his face twisted in pain but a clip full of bullets in hand. Shock and fear had me cranking bullet after bullet into his chest, dropping him back to the ground. I quickly pounced on him, but he didn't move. I felt for a pulse on his neck, but there was nothing, and a look at his chest revealed that he wasn't bleeding.

Thinking it was odd, I ripped his shirt open to find he was wearing a bulletproof vest, the front ruined with heavy fire from my Desert Eagle. A large hole was ripped into the front of it, not quite penetrating but ruining it. It took my brain a second to figure out that my rounds had likely stopped his heart with their heavy and repeated hits, which while rare could happen.

I left the man in the center of the garage and worked my way around the vehicles to the other four Tong who held the ramp. It was here that the true fight raged, and I pulled out some bullets for the Desert Eagle and reloaded the heavier gun. Once it was full, I worked my way closer, the Tong paying me no mind as they exchanged sporadic gunfire with the Russians one level up.

When I was only twenty feet away, I pulled my 44 magnum from my messenger bag and tucked it in my pants for easy access. When the Tong leaned over the car and began to return fire, I leaned over the car I was hiding behind and opened fire on them, aiming for their heads as their chests seemed to be protected. Two fell before they realized they were exposed on my side, and a third was shot in the arm by an overly itch trigger finger of his buddy, causing him to drop his gun as he limped away in pain.

The fourth fired a grand total of one shot before his gun clicked empty. He was experienced enough to immediately drop the clip out and get a fresh clip in hand in short order, but not fast enough for me to get a bead on him and put one in his eyeball. The third man, who had been holding his arm and cussing in a foreign language pulled some kind of small pistol from his pants pocket. I shot him again, this time in the other arm, and he dropped his pistol as he took a knee. Taking aim, I put another round into head, felling the Tong thug permanently.

Moving to the ramp that the Tong had been firing up, I could see several men hiding behind a car at the top, military-style rifles in hand. I had no immediate way in, except using Shadowstep, and I didn't want to risk someone surviving and talking about the teleporting ghost that shot up the parking garage. The prince would have my head, literally.

Remembering the badge I had taken off the cop, I decided to try my hand at deception.

"LAPD!" I shouted up the ramp and held the badge out where they could see it. "Hands in the air and guns on the ground or I open fire!"

"Where Nikolai?" one of the men shouted down, his Russian accent thick.

"Dead," I called back up the ramp as I pocketed the stolen badge. "So far, only you guys on the top two floors are still alive. I've sent the rest to the morgue."

"You never take us alive!" he called, his rifle singing a death song written in gunpowder. I stayed duck behind the concrete wall, figuring eventually they'd run out of ammo if they kept that up. Problem was, how many extra clips and bullets did they bring?

Another round of fire ripped into the wall, and I looked around. They had the ramp covered extremely well, and there weren't any easy ways around them. In the lull that followed, I pushed into the ramp and cloaked myself in shadow. Once hidden from sight, I worked my way up the ramp to the two waiting Russians who seemed antsy as they waited.

Switching pistols for the 44 Magnum, I cocked the heavy handgun and aimed it for the Russian who held his rifle in my general direction. It's boom was loud, and the man fell over backwards and out of sight before his friend even flinched. The other Russian gripped his weapon tighter, scanning the shadows for me. I lined up the sights and ended him before he ever fired a shot.

Moving up the ramp, I came around the car and checked on the two men. Well, more specifically I checked on their weapons. I didn't know the actual number, but I knew the two carried Russian made military rifles; AK-fortysomething. I took both, stashing one in my messenger bag with its clip in my pants pocket. There was an ammo box full of clips beside the car, some empty, some full. I filled my pockets with full ones, coming away with six more fully loaded clips, and the weight was starting to get at me.

I trudged on, finding a nearby van that resembled a delivery van that seemed out of place among the cars. The door on the back was open, and I saw more ammo crates, all of them containing clips for the Russian weapon I was carrying. I stowed my bag in it, to curtail forty pounds of extra weight I was carrying and then went back and got the box and tugged it back to the van. I needed my potence to lift it, but I got the box back in the back and shut the door.

With the Russian rifle in my hands and my fully loaded Magnum tucked into my waistband, I moved through the remaining cars like a ghost. I found the two surviving Russians behind a pickup with more guns. They weren't firing, but their rifles were aimed up the ramp as if they were waiting on something. I readied my rifle, taking careful aim down the sights and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked like a rockette, and I was wholly unprepared for the rate of fire the weapon had. I barely managed to hold on to it, let alone aim it with any kind of accuracy, but I seemed to luck out as my first bullets ripped the two to shreds.

I quickly got around the truck and rushed up the ramp, only stopping at the top to check out the scene. There were two men who had been guarding the ramp that now lay dead, likely from fire taken by the two at the bottom of the ramp. Two more men squatted behind their cars as they traded shots at each other. I reloaded the rifle, watching the two men as they traded shots and decided to take out the closest one first. Coming around the corner of the vehicle, I emptied the clip into the guy, taking care to quickly release the trigger so it would quit kicking.

The gun let out a brief burst of fire, and the guy danced as the bullets hit him before he fell face first against the ground. I stayed low, keeping out of sight of the other guy even though he hadn't fired in a few brief moments.

"Mili? Grisha? Is that you?" he shouted, staying behind cover. I stayed quiet, working my way closer and keeping my gun ready to fire.

He eventually tried to sneak a peak over the cars trunk, and I yanked the trigger and emptied the clip at him. Some of my bullets must have hit, because he fell back. I pulled my Magnum with my right hand, holding the rifle in my left and approached him. He was wounded bad, several shots to the chest but he wasn't dead yet.

"W-who are you," he said, his voice trembling as he struggled to speak.

"Just the delivery girl," I told him, reaching into the backseat and pulling out the briefcase with handcuffs attached to it. I looked the briefcase over, noticing the heavy locks used to secure it. It had to be the one I was after. "And it looks like I got what I came for."

"Why?" he asked, his eyes glued to me. "Who hired you?"

"I don't even know who the client is," I told him, giving him a serious stare from behind my shades. "Probably another low life scum like you. Tell me, how many innocents have you killed? How many lives have you destroyed?"

"No...more…than...you," he coughed out, blood trickling from his mouth.

He moved his mouth to say more, but he cried out in pain, his arm clutching at his chest as he fell silent. I knelt down and checked his pulse, but there was nothing. I looked down at the Russian mobster, and felt sick at the thought that I might be as vile as he was. I didn't go around ruining people's lives like he did, killing indiscriminately and murdering the innocent.

I saved those I could, like Yukie and Kiki, and even Lily. I reunited E and Lily, let Julius go even though I was supposed to have killed him, and got Jose banished from LA instead of beheaded like the prince wanted. Even when my saving came at a price, like Heather, I didn't force them to stay, and would have allowed them to leave if they wanted. In fact, the only person who served me against their will was Brian, but I didn't hear him complaining.

Taking the briefcase, I walked back to the other car the Tong leader had hidden behind when I got an idea. Leaning my head in through the broken window, I pulled out another briefcase, though this one had an ordinary lock on it. I took it also, tucking it under my arm with the secured one in my hand. With the Magnum back in my waist and the rifle in hand, I headed back to the van and stowed everything in the back.

I had to believe the cops would soon arrive, with all the gunfire that was on display. The keys were in the ignition, so I started it and backed it out of the hole. The cars that blocked the ramp were my first concern, and as I came down the ramp I gunned the engine and rammed them out of the way. There was a screech of metal as the cars gave ground, and soon I had the van going down the next ramp.

Once again I had to force the cars out of the way, to make it the second level, but with one last level to go, I floored it down the straight away and rammed the other cars hard enough that soon I was headed out the main gate. I felt a brief stint of worry over leaving my new bike behind, but figured there was no proof I was involved and would likely be left alone. I could probably return in a bit and claim it with no problem.

Taking the van though had me wondering what to do with it. It was a bit of a drive back to my house, and it wasn't like I had much use for the weapons in it. Larry might, and if he was willing, might take the whole thing off my hands. Of course, I'd likely keep one of the Russian weapons for Brian, more of a stroke to his ego if nothing else.

Larry was sitting on the back of his van when I drove up, and he gave me a wolf whistle when I parked the battered van behind his. "I say there girl," he said as I stepped back to talk with him, "I send you after a briefcase and you bring back the whole shebang."

"Speaking of briefcases," I said as I opened the back door on the van and pulled out his briefcase. "Here you go."

"Outstanding!" he said, a big smile on his face as he took the briefcase and slipped it in the van behind him. "Well worth the price, trust me."

"Wouldn't happen to know what this is?" I asked, pulling out the Russian gun from my messenger bag and showing it to him.

"Russian AK-47," he said, taking and examining the gun. "Sometimes called Kalashnikov. Most dependable and cheapest machine gun ever made as it never jams. You could lay this sucka in the mud, work the action a dozen times, leave it for a year, dig it out, and fire it just as good as the day it was made."

"Really? I got spares," I said as I opened the other door to show all the crates. Together we opened them up, finding we had over a dozen all told with five more crates of ammo. The Russians must have been preparing for a war with the Tong tonight.

"I can give you four a piece for these babies," he told me, placing the AK-47 back in the box I pulled it from. "Going rate is about six on the black market right now. You keep this up, you're gonna be givin' me competition."

"As if," I responded with an eye roll. "I don't know enough about guns to sell 'em. I can barely work 'em."

"So what's in that other briefcase?" Larry asked me as we hopped out of the back of the van.

"Money, I hope," I said, pulling it out. "The Tong had this in their car."

"Let's see what's in it," Larry said, reaching into his pocket for a knife. He popped the locks, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head at seeing all the hundred dollar bills. Larry pulled a stack out, and let out a whistle. I was starting to wonder how much it all added to when Larry tossed it back in the briefcase.

"Russian's were going to get screwed," he said with a chuckle.

"What's that?" I asked him, picking up a stack reverently to inspect it while I had visions of yachts and sandy beaches.

"It's phony money," he said and my heart sank. "Likely all of it. Tong must not have wanted to pay for it. Good thing I sent my best girl. Chinatown wouldn't be no place to go for anyone till the dust settled on this deal."

"Speaking of Chinatown," I said, throwing the money in the van and pulling out my messenger bag. I put one of the AK-47's in it that had a folding stock, making it fit in my bag when it wasn't in use. "Want the whole thing? I can't do anything with it."

"Sure, sure," he said pulling out a small lockbox. "Twelve Kalashnikovs, over three hundred magazines, and an armored van, give you ten grand for the whole thing."

"Sounds good," I said, as Larry started to count out the bills. "That makes it fifteen grand total."

Larry counted out the money, and I stashed it in a compartment on my messenger bag. "Fifteen grand well spent, too. Ever get any more hardware you want to unload, jus' see me."

"Will do," I said, stepping into the shadows getting ready to teleport myself back to my bike. There were things I needed to do, and standing around talking didn't get it done.

"Another night Larry," I said, and stepped to my bike. Chinatown was calling, and I was hot on Barabbas's heels. I just knew it.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : 10.5 K words. Whew.

For those not up on your Japanese, toire means toilet, hai means yes, and yoi means good. Since you can't do the parking garage mission until you see Larry a second time, I didn't want to throw it out early since it might seem awkward.

Also, I hope everyone likes the Kawasaki Ninja 12R. I had to do a lot of research to come up with a good bike replacement for Eliza, and most everyone seems to like the Ninja 12R to the Suzuki Hayabua. To those that don't keep up with sport bikes, they really do cap out at 186, for reasons stated.

Hope everyone likes the changes to the garage shootout. Always hated it that your character shows just as the deal goes down, so I made it where she was late to the party, which works out for Eliza.

And thanks to all those that keep favoriting and reading this story! I love ya you crazy fools.


	38. Chapter 38 – Into the Fryer

Author's Note: Well, I got inspired, had the time, and set out to write the next chapter and wouldn't you know? Boom, another chapter in a day's time. Hope you enjoy it, reviews are always appreciated, and it wraps up Chinatown, for now...

* * *

Chapter 38 – Into the Fryer

October 4, 2004 = Monday

~Eliza Flores~

Stepping out of the shadows in the parking garage, the police presence was already thick. Red and blue lights flashed everywhere, and cops milled around in groups, near the entrance. I raised the kickstand before sliding a leg over the seat and reversed it out by foot, not being noticed by anyone until I started the meaty engine and began to idle out.

A group of officers at the exit fanned out, blocking the way. I stopped short of the blue line of men, and killed the bike. One of the officers approached, hand on his gun, and it made me wonder if I might be in trouble. Not that they had me on anything except for being at a crime scene. I figured the worst that could happen was spend a night in the police station, which would be alright if they didn't search me. The thirty-eight and the Glock I might explain, but the Magnum and the Desert Eagle would be harder but feasible. The Uzi and Kalashnikov? Eh, maybe things would be better if they didn't search me.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said after I shut the motor off. "Were you here for the shootout upstairs?"

"No, officer," I lied, giving him a pretty smile. "I was down at the Macy's looking for fine jewelry for an upcoming event. I'm so tired of moissanite jewelry and wanted real diamonds. So, I'm out shopping. Tomorrow I'm making an appointment with Isaac's jewelry store in Hollywood, see if they have any real diamonds."

"Um, yes ma'am," the officer said, uncomfortable with a sudden thought. "We need to check your bike for damaged and evidence, and if we find any, we may have to impound it. Where was it parked?"

"Oh, pooh," I said, making a frowning face that wasn't entirely faked. I didn't need legal hassles. "It was parked here on the ground floor, just over there," I said, pointing to the empty spot I had vacated as I slipped off the bike, kicking the foot stand down to let the bike stand on its own. "Do I need to call my lawyer as well?" I asked, and the officer got even more uncomfortable as he used his flashlight to inspect my bike.

"Oh, no ma'am," he said, moving to the other side. "This is just standard procedure. I'm not seeing any holes or blood splatter, so the bike is good to go," he said as he looked at me. "Did you carry that bag with you Macy's?"

"Yes I did, officer," I said, my hand clenching around the strap in case I needed to use it as a weapon.

"I just need to see a license then and a number where an investigator can reach you if we need to ask any follow up questions," he said, taking a pad and pen from his pocket.

My name is Elisa Flores," I said, using my fake name that was on my license as I fished it out of my coat. "I live at 23191 Pacific Coast Highway, just outside Malibu."

"Pacific...Coast...Highway..." he said, writing it down then went wide-eyed. "That's on the beach!"

"Yes, it is," I said smiling brightly. "Just bought a beautiful five bedroom mansion there on an almost full acre of land."

"Holy cow," he said, smiling back at me. "What do you do for a living Miss Flores? You active in Hollywood?"

"Not right now," I told him. "I'm mostly an investor, and I own part of the nightclub Four-Play. I'm looking to expand, maybe get a part in another club in LA called Confession, though I hear it's went downhill in recent months."

"I know both, actually," the officer said as he wrote in his book, then pulled his radio from his belt. "One-Adam-Twelve, needing a ten-twenty-nine on Elisa Flores." he said, giving my license number. "I get a few calls a month out at Four-Play, mostly drunk and disorderlies. Seems like a nice enough place, good aesthetics."

"Dangers of running a club," I said smiling at him. "Get any calls about Confession?"

"One, just before we came here," he said as he handed me my license back. I tucked it into my coat pocket, and he continued on. "Seems that Ms. Dare's bouncer, Adrian, got himself into a fight. Pretty bad, had to send him to the hospital."

"Was it related to the club?" I asked, wondering if I might use that later when I actually got to meet Venus Dare.

"Didn't appear to be," he said as he got a radio response. He talked back and forth with the other end, then hung his radio back up. "Story accounts we got indicate he walked in beaten up, but we weren't able to follow up before we got called out here."

"Hope you get whoever beat Adrian," I told him and he nodded his head.

"Thanks," he said as he looked back at his note book. "Investor huh? Seem to be making good money at that."

"I do alright," I told him, wondering what he was fishing for. "Biggest trick is to stay ahead of the other guy."

"Mind giving me an example?" he said and I smiled.

"This isn't an ordinary shooting," I said and his eyes went up. "Two sides, minimum, probably automatics, and there was a cop killed here."

"How do you figure that?" he said, his eyes studying me.

"If it were one on one, there might be a few cars," I said and he looked around at the sea of blue around us and nodded his head. "Instead, I see what looks like every available cop in the area. Last time I saw a response like this was during the North Hollywood Shootout in '97."

"You're ahead of the other guy alright," he muttered, and looked at his feet. "How do you figure there was a cop killed here, though? Why can't we be just late to the big shootout?"

"You don't often see cops called off a case unless there's a man down," I said and again he nodded.

"Well, you seem to be on the right side of things, so we're not going to detain you," he said as he put his notebook and pen away. "Please don't leave town for awhile in case we need to contact you."

"Don't worry, Officer...Reed," I said, reading the name off his nametag. "I have too many interests in town to think about leaving."

"Have a nice day, Miss Flores," he said as I started my Ninja and idled on out the parking lot.

I headed north to Chinatown, getting there by nine, and parked out front of the Red Dragon restaurant. The Ninja was a dream on the freeway, as I was able to dodge in and out of traffic the entire way as I pretended to run from a hunter. I couldn't see but one way I would ever get caught, and that was if they shot the bike out from under me which would get me caught no matter what bike I rode.

Entering the restaurant, the hostess wasn't at her podium, so I looked behind it to find the elevator call button that had to be there. It was easy found, and I called it down and took it to Wong Ho's private offices. Wong Ho was sitting on his leather couch when I arrived, reading some sort of data sheet as he marked stuff with a pen.

"Ah, my friend!" he exclaimed as I came off the elevator. "I was able to get word to Zhao. He has agreed to meet you as soon as you possible at his business, Zhao's Imports. It is on the north end of Chinatown, and I have written the directions here," he said handing me a sheet of paper with a map.

"I wish you success in your mission," he said as I studied the map, finding it was easy to get to. "And may you recover your friend safely. And if there's anything you should ever need help with, do not hesitate to ask. I can never repay you for returning my Kiki to me, unharmed."

"Take care of her, Wong Ho," I said, folding the map away into my coat. "And should you ever need a hand protecting her..."

"I shall not hesitate to ask," he said with a smile.

"Farewell, Wong Ho," I said, turning and going back into the elevator. I had what I came for, a meeting with Zhao and I left the restaurant in peace.

Back on my bike, I followed Wong Ho's directions to a two story warehouse in the industrial area. The warehouse itself was dark and seemingly empty, and the only door I saw read 'driver's entrance.' Hoping Zhao was inside, I parked near the door and went in, finding the warehouse dark, even to me. Lines of shelves that stretched to the ceiling filled the space, making it difficult to navigate. Some of the boxes sat on the ground, and searching one yielded nothing but packing peanuts.

Going through the warehouse, I found an office with its lights on and a man standing at a window. Going up the stairs that led to it, I found Zhao standing there with what looked like a cheap Uzi in his hand. He didn't turn when I opened the door, but his eyes continued to scan the warehouse.

"Wong Ho called," he said, his voice deep and sad. "I don't know where your friend is, but I know the Tong are involved. They have been contracted to kidnap some, odd, people lately. I have heard such attacks were mostly unsuccessful, but one was. Only Johnny would certainly know where he was sent."

I bit back a curse as it sank in. Technically I didn't have much to go on, but it was better than nothing. Like walking on thin ice, it was better than no ice at all.

"Where can I find Johnny?" I asked him, when three booms crashed through the warehouse.

"At his club, Glaze, behind the Lotus Blossom in Chinatown," he said becoming more anxious and I nodded my head. "The passcode on the door is seven-two-five."

"Thanks Zhao," I said as he raised his gun and broke the window. Rattling metal could be heard throughout the warehouse, and I wondered what it meant.

"You should go," he said as several doors suddenly rose. "My debt to Wong Ho has been repaid, and in doing so I have betrayed the Tong."

"You should get out of here," I said, when Tong poured out of the doors. Zhao began firing, and I opened my messenger bag and pulled out the Kalashnikov.

The Tong spread out, some disappearing from my view as I readied my rifle, and the moment Zhao's gun went click, they all stood as one and poured automatic fire into the office. Zhao was cut down in the hail of gunfire, and the moment they stopped, I slid deeper into the office and out of sight, then pulled some extra clips out of the bag for the ensuing fight.

Zhao coughed some, rolling towards me and gave me a sad look. "She-she li-li-lied t-to," he tried say, coughing up blood onto the heavy traffic carpeting. A second round of gunfire ripped through the area he had been hiding at, and his body spasmed in pain as more bullets seemed to find him, then he lay quiet.

It wasn't long before the Tong came pouring up the steps, and I was ready with a shouldered rifle, determined to hold my own. When the door burst open, I used my potence to hold the rifle steady and poured a whole clip into the group, felling many of them. I quickly reloaded the gun, having it ready to fire just as another Tong appeared in the door. I gave him a burst from the rifle, then inched forward to look out into the warehouse as he fell down the stairs.

Several more booms filled the warehouse, the rattling of the doors as they began to be forced open following. I changed the clips in the rifle for a fresh one, snapping it home just as one of the doors opened. I took aim at the first man through, and fired in short bursts at each man who came through. Several of the Tong that came out of that particular door were severely wounded by my fire, a few definitely dead as I scored head shots.

The other two doors poured fire in random directions, trying to suppress the shooter as they made a run for cover. I reloaded, then jumped over the railing and hid behind a shelf as we began a cat-and-mouse game. A Tong came around the end of the shelf I was hiding behind, facing the other way as he searched for me, and I shot him in the back. Two more came around the end, and I opened fire on them as well, killing both just as the gun went click.

Running down a random aisle, I took cover behind an open crate and stashed my rifle back in the bag along with the empty clips and pulled out the Desert Eagle. Armed, I started to work my way back to the doors, gunning another Tong down where he cowered behind a crate.

Moving on, I could hear them begin shouting to each other, and I began honing in on where they were shouting from. One I found climbing the shelves, trying to get a sniper position on the whole warehouse before I put one in his back. Two more I found sitting back to back, and the one shot I put in the head of the one facing me also killed his buddy as the bullet plowed out the back of his head and kept going.

Going over the different people I saw leaving the doors in the fight, I found there was only one I had yet to account for. I began searching near the doors, looking for the last survivor as I headed out. It didn't matter if he survived or not, along with the injured as I hadn't displayed anything out of the ordinary.

I was opening the door to leave, having just slipped the Uzi back in my bag, when I felt the barrel of the gun press into my back. "You move, bitch, you die!" the man said, yanking the messenger bag's strap over my head and off my arm. "Who sent you here?"

"We call him the prince," I said, trying to keep him talking. I didn't want to get shot, it did hurt, but I wasn't worried about dying. "I'm looking for someone the Tong kidnapped."

"You can have her back after she's through with the first five million," he said, and I just shook my head. Foolish little man.

"I'm going to make you suck my..." he started to say, when I activated my celerity and spun, dropping my body and leaning so I was no longer in the line of fire. The roar of the gun was loud in my ear, the whistle of the bullet high and screaming as it passed close enough for me to feel as I was spinning to face him. Raising an arm, I knocked his gun further away and then flat-palmed him in the chest to knock him back.

As he was falling, he let go his pistol and it clattered away. I stood over him, and he looked up at me in fear.

"Who the fuck are you?" he exclaimed.

"The delivery girl," I said and he looked to his gun just out of reach. "Do it and I'll plant my foot across your face."

The Tong thug looked at me, then back to the gun. I knew his decision was already made, and in a split second he rolled over and snatched for the pistol. I followed his roll, and as he came up on a knee with the gun in hand, I connected a potence fueled kick to his head that caused the bones to crack audibly in the building. The thug then fell lifeless to the floor, his eyes glassy in death.

Picking up my messenger bag, I slung it back around my neck and exited the warehouse and got back on my bike. I worked my way to the Lotus Blossom, circling around when I got there to find Glaze. It was a plain building, but I could hear the thumping music within it. I parked my bike once again at the entrance, and went in, using the code Zhao gave me to get in past the bouncer at the door.

Inside the club, the part was in full swing as the place was filled with mostly young Asian girls and a few guys. I didn't see anyone who looked like they were in charge, but some people in charge looked like the lowest guy on the totem pole.

Going to the bar, I signaled for the barman. "I need to speak to Johnny!" I had to yell over the pumping bass, but the barman shook his head.

"Nobody sees Johnny without speaking to Ricky first," he yelled back, then motioned to a man sitting alone at a table. "That's him."

"Thanks," I said and headed over. Once I was at Ricky's table, I told him the same thing.

"About what?" he said, looking me over in a lustful way.

I opened the top of the messenger bag, then reached in and pulled the Kalashnikov out enough to see it. Ricky's eyes went up at seeing it, then motioned for me to sit down. "How much and how many you got?" he asked me, leaning in close with his hand under the table.

"Three dozen," I said, and he shot me a glance as if he didn't believe me. "You're little shootout in the Ampco garage got noticed. I jumped some Russians in a heavy cargo van as they left, and they were in the back, so I'm looking to unload them before I get caught. Also, since you're small potatoes, Ricky, I want to deal directly with Johnny."

I could tell by watching his face that he knew about the attack, but all I had admitted to was jumping the Russians. I could also tell that he was weighing what the Russians had done if they brought three dozen AK-47's for an ambush. Sensing that maybe he would blow up with a little more push, I added a bit more.

"Another reason I don't trust the small guy, is probably the same reason the Russians don't trust you," I said locking eyes with him. "Phony money? Really? It was quite obvious."

"Johnny's upstairs," he said, then turned to a far stairwell where a guy stood, and made a series of motions with his hands. "Go on up."

I nodded my thanks to him and headed to and up the stairs, the guy guarding the bottom scowling at me as I passed. On the second floor, I found it was a private type party area, but no Johnny in sight. Seeing the door on the far side, I headed over and opened it, finding it was a private lounge. The door on the back side was closed so I opened it too.

Inside was a dark haired, lithe young Asian male wearing mirrored sunglasses looking at a screen of an older Asian male before the screen went gray. The man in the room spun, and shouted, "Who the hell you think you are, bitch? You know who I am? You know where you are? You want to die?"

"The delivery girl, Johnny, Glaze and already did," I said to him. "I'm looking for someone and you're going to tell me where they are."

"You got something to say to me, bitch?" he said, yanking a small pistol from his back and aiming it at me. "Who let you into Chinatown anyway? You here for your mother? Ha, yeah, well we'll give her back after she's done with the last twenty guys."

"Where's Barabus?" I demanded to know, hand inching down to my bag. "I know you have him."

"Who told you that? Ho-how-how would you know about that? Who are you? Answer me!" he screamed at me, his hand shaking as he kept it aimed at me.

"As I said, the delivery girl," I said, when the screen came back on.

"Don't tell it a thing, Johnny," the guy on TV said. "Shoot it!"

Johnny looked back at the TV, then me. "You told me that guy was a nobody! Just what the hell did you get us involved in?"

"Shoot it," the TV man said again. "You'll find out."

"You're dead, bitch!" he yelled, then shot me in the chest. The light caliber bullet hit me in the chest, feeling like I got punched in the chest. I staggered back a bit, feeling the bullet rip through my body before it left out the back. I stood up straight though, as Johnny fell back against the TV in shock that he had shot me and I hadn't fell.

"What the fuck?" he said, backpedaling away into the corner. "I shot you! You're dead!"

"That's exactly it, Johnny," the TV man said. I got the chance to look at the camera under the TV searching the room, probably looking for me, but it couldn't find me due to my clan curse. "It is dead. Normally, a bullet of that caliber would likely ricochet and tear up the small intestine, but as you can see, it likely exited cleanly through the back with little external bleeding. The reason being; it's internal organs have atrophied. Also, it appears that the myth that vampires have no reflection is true. Do you have a mirror?"

"I'm afraid he's right," I said, sliding my messenger bag off and removing my coat as Johnny looked on in horror. The hole his gun had made was visible as I held it up, as was the little blood involved. "And now that you know that, I have to kill you," I said, dropping the coat to the floor.

My words seemed to galvanize Johnny, as he struggled for composure as he raised his gun again. I reached for mine just as Johnny fired his first shot, completely missing me as his gun hand was shaking so bad. I pulled mine, and fired several times as Johnny tried to calm his gun hand with his other hand, failing miserably.

As he slumped to the floor, the TV man shook his head. "You had to kill him, didn't you? It's part of your code of survival, covering your tracks, so to speak. It's a pity you don't show up on camera, as I would like to make your acquaintance. If you feel the same way, please come to the Fu Syndicate building, 420 Ord Street. We have a meeting room just to the left of the entrance. I will waiting for you there."

With that the TV showed static, indicating that the transmission had been cut. Rapid pounding on the door startled me, and slipping on my coat and grabbing my messenger bag, shadow-stepped to my bike to avoid a shootout. At my bike, I headed back to the entrance of Chinatown to find the map I had used when I first got here to find my way to the Golden Temple to meet Ming Xiao.

I found the proper street, then headed down to it on my bike. The Fu Syndicate building wasn't really that impressive, a large concrete building with a fancy sign on the front. Several cars were parked out front, and I parked my own ride in an empty spot. I didn't know what to expect as I went in, figuring they'd have some sort of night security on guard duty, but the guy just waved at me before he returned to his book.

A large conference room was visible to my left, so I went in to it. It was empty, but the guy on the TV stood there, waiting. Finally, I heard a voice from the TV say, "She's inside," and the man perked up at that.

"So glad you finally decided to show up," he said. "If you want to meet your comrade, walk through the doors at the rear of the room."

"You don't scare me," I told him, then entered the elevator sized room.

"I'm waiting," I called out, and the doors closed on me. When the lift rose, I looked to where an opening was revealed by dim lights, which as I rose into it proved to be a concrete cell with a heavily reinforced steel door to my left, and a large, reinforced observation window in front of me. Around me, set into the walls, were row upon row of spotlights, though only the a few fluorescent lights overhead were on.

Behind the observation window, the man I had seen on TV stood there, with a smug look on his face. "So glad you finally decided to show up," he said as he looked down at his control board and began to do something. "I am told you are a rather resourceful individual. This should make you a most intriguing specimen. You and your kind may play mortals for weaklings and fools, and that may be fitting to some, but you underestimate me."

A man in a blue lab outfit soon arrived with a clipboard, and the man nodded to him. "Begin recording," he said, and the man reached down to turn something on that I couldn't see. "Subject is female, appearance suggests early to late twenties, true age unknown. Heritage would suggest a Latin background, but that is indeterminate at this time.

"As with the other test subjects," he said, continuing on in a flat tone, "there are no visible vital signs, no body heat registers on thermal cameras, even conventional cameras do not register the subject as being there. Test chamber air sample is ninety-seven percent carbon monoxide, meaning normal respiration cannot take place. Subject is by all definition, clinically dead."

"Hello in there," he said, looking up to smile at me as if I were a pet. "I'm going to run some tests on you. I'm interested in how you work, but only because it's my task to find the most efficient way to kill your kind. Please give me everything you got," he said, then turned to his assistant. "Begin the experiment."

The lights set into the wall flashed on, filling the room with bright purple light. My skin felt like it was on fire, and the most intense migraine hit me right behind the eyes. "Turn it off!" I shrieked, stumbling blind from pain. I ripped my glasses off to rub at my eyes, but that made it ten times worse. I fell to the floor to scramble for my shades, but I could no longer see as my eyes burned out. My skin still burned, and I huddled on the floor and whimpered, trying to shield my eyes as best as I could.

"Test chamber has been filled with ultraviolet light, releasing moderate UV radiation," I heard him say. "Does that hurt? Does it burn?" he asked me, but I could only scream as my body fried. Suddenly the lights clicked off, and I whimpered as the pain receded.

"How odd," he said, then the lights flooded on again. I screamed, my mind trying to find a way to work through the pain. I reached for a shadow, anything, but the lights must have been so bright, or my eyes so bad, that I couldn't find anything to shield myself with. Only when the lights clicked off again, did I feel the shadows return, and I pulled them to my hand like an old friend though I couldn't see to shape them into anything useful.

"The other subjects do not feel pain at being flooded with UV radiation," he said, my ears latching on to his voice to help compensate for my current lack of vision. It was returning, likely because my corneas had burned themselves out from what essentially amounts to looking at the sun. My pain eased, the longer the lights stayed off, and soon I could see well enough to find the observation window, to which I crawled so I could get out of this hell hole

"What makes you so different?" he asked, and I stood on shaky feet and wobbled to the glass. "Subject's skin has acquired first and second degree burns. Conclusion, UV radiation appears to affect some individuals, but not all. More tests will have to be conducted to determine why this subject is partial to UV radiation."

"Like cats or dogs," I told him, my eyes starting to see clearly now, "There are different breeds of us. I just happen to be the shadow in the group. That allows me to do things," I told him, and his eyes grew wide. "Like first, you can't hold me," I said, then shadow-stepped out of the room into the shadow behind him.

Alarms blared as the first thing I did was grab the assistant as he reached for a shotgun stored by the console and shove him face first into the controls. The boss ran off, and needing to get back into fighting shape pulled the assistant off the console and sank my fangs into his neck. I drank the blood so fast I didn't even get much of a taste, then threw the man to the ground to prepare for the attack that was coming.

I no more got my hands on the Uzi in my bag when the first guard came around the corner. He carried a semi-automatic shotgun with a big banana clip, which he raised to fire at me. I raised my Uzi, opening fire even though my aim was still to low and allowed the first few shots to raise my aim further. It had the desired effect, scaring the guy and made him miss his first shot as mine began to rip into him.

His fellow guards were unable to fire initially, and I continued to advance and pour automatic fire into the group until I ran out of bullets. More guards came from the other direction, and I dropped the Uzi and reached for the shadows to make a weapon. My brain latched on to the first thing I could think of, which happened to be a chakram, and threw the foot wide circular blade down the hall much as I used to watch Xena do on TV when I was younger. My aim was close enough, the chakram slicing into the first guys neck as he shot me, making me dance backwards in an effort to catch myself from falling while my chakram bounced sideways into the wall then back into his buddies behind him.

As I recovered my balance, I caught the eye of the second man in the group who was holding his buddy as he died and charged him. The guard seemed to realize he needed to kill me before I got close, and he dropped his buddy as he reached for his gun. Determined to get the upper hand, I pushed myself to go faster, activating my Celerity and closed the distance in the blink of an eye. The guard must have panicked, because as his hand closed around the grip and he put his finger to the trigger he began firing blind.

I could feel the bullets as they passed my legs, so I jumped and did a flying kick on the guy and knocked him back among the dead, dying and those about to be. Pulling on the shadows again, I made a set of weapons more suited for the close in combat I was engaged in; a pair of Japanese sai. As the first man got back to his feet, I sliced his throat open with one, and stabbed his heart with the other. The last surviving guard in the fight tried to scramble away, but I threw one of the sai into his back. The guard screamed, and I knelt over him and slid the other sai across his throat.

Returning the pair of sai to shadows, I turned down the corridor and began searching for the boss, eventually finding my dropped Uzi which I stowed back in my messenger bag. I pulled my Glock, the trusty little pistol my best line of defense and continued my search. I opened a door, finding it led to a storage area full of crates. I started down the stairs, when I heard the boss start talking.

"My employer's punishment for your escape will be a thousand times more painful than anything you could devise," he said sourly, and I began to follow his voice. "I refuse to give you the satisfaction."

I tracked his voice to a corner behind a shelf. It was a good location, for him, because to get to it in any way I would have to present myself as a target and kept his back to a wall so I couldn't teleport behind him. I started down the steps when he let loose a hail of bullets, and I fell back. Once he was empty, I vaulted over the railing to see him dropping the clip out of his Uzi. I immediately took a knee, steadying my aim and shot him in the knee.

He cried out in pain as he fell, and I hurried over to kick the Uzi out of his reach. Kneeling on his arm to pin it, I held him down.

"Who's your employer?" I demanded and he grinned at me.

"That information I will take to my grave," he said, then spit in my face.

"Let me speed you on your way then," I said and shoved my Glock under his chin and pulled the trigger. The bullet through his head and out the top of his brain, and I left the man to rot.

"Is someone there?" I heard a gravelly voice shout. It was faint, and probably only my better than usual kindred hearing allowed me to hear it.

"Barabus?" I shouted back, recognizing the gravelly style voice all the Nosferatu seemed to have.

"In here!" he shouted and I followed it to a steel door in the wall. It was pretty heavy, with a steel lock that looked pretty tough. I looked at the lock, and pulled my picks and worked on it for several minutes before finally getting it to twist.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I opened the door and saw Barabus standing there.

"They get you too?" he said, sounding disgusted with himself as he shook his bulbous head. "I got no excuse. A Nosferatu getting caught by a bunch of humans, that's a new low."

"Barabus, I presume?" I asked and he nodded his head. "Gary sent me to come get you. I need info and your the payment."

"Wait, we can't go yet," he said and I looked at the cell next to us. Did they have more prisoners? "There are servers here. We need to hack out and get Mitnick to delete their research. Should be an access on this floor."

"So there's no other prisoners?" I asked and he shook his head.

"They got the Malk primogen, Grout," he said and I shook my head slowly. "Heard he died in some kind of fire experiment they had set up. If he did, it'll be on the servers."

"Let me check the cell before we go," I said, kneeling with the lockpicks and going to work on the lock. It didn't take me long to get it opened, but no one was inside. I did find the room was covered in scratches, probably from Grout's flaking mind. I couldn't discern much of it, as it was too thinly scratched, but I did discern one line. 'Ming Xiao betrayed me.'

"Ming Xiao," I breathed, and it finally made sense. She was gearing the Kue-Jin up for another war, and knowing how to efficiently kill us kindred would make it easier for her and her troops. Well, two can play that game.

"Yeah," Barabus said from behind me as I took a picture with my phone for vidence to show to Walsh and the Prince. "I was sent to spy on her and got caught. I think she saw me as Ispied on her while she was bathing. They caught me not long after."

"Naughty thing to do," I said as we left the cell behind. Barabus knelt by the man I had killed and took a key from his pocket, then picked up the clip and Uzi and took it with him.

"It's what we Nosferatu do," he said as he led the way out, probably more familiar with the layout than I was. "We spy on people and sell that information for what we can get out of it. Nothing personal, it's just I can't be seen in public without causing a panic."

"Just don't publish photos of me naked on MySpace, okay?" I asked he laughed at that.

"What will you give us to not to?" he said and I caught the joke. Blackmail was just their way of life, a form of currency that allowed them to survive in the shadows only a Lasombra could master.

"Well, if you get any, contact me first," I said and he kept laughing as he opened a door leading out of the storage room.

His laughing died when two security guards with pistols stood there, and he pulled the door closed before they could fire at him. "Stand back," he said, as I pulled my Glock back out in case I needed it. Barabus took a step back then mule kicked the door so hard it flew off its hinges, hitting one guard and felling him to the floor. He rushed the other, sinking his fangs into the man's neck for what had to be a much needed drink.

While Barabus fed, the other man stirred a bit and I shot the man dead. I couldn't believe a man would work for a company and not have some idea of what they did, so I figured the man must've known something and went along with it for a paycheck.

When Barabus let the other man drop, we proceeded through the hallway again with the Nos in the lead. I think the man had some frustration to work out as he seemed more inclined to beat the men to death with his fists than his hands. When we reached an office with a computer terminal, Barabus sat to the computer for several minutes while he typed away. I covered the door, shooting several guards that found where we were holed up.

"That's got it," he said as he finally stood up.

"I need you to contact Gary as soon as you can," I told him, with him leading the way back to the front. "I wasn't kidding about you being a payment."

"The clan already knows I'm alive," he said, as he used his potence to break another door off its hinges. "Gary should be contacting you soon."

"Thanks," I said as he opened another locked door the kindred way and I found myself back in the entrance to the Syndicate. "Stay safe in the shadows," I told him as I holstered my gun and headed for the door.

"I will, and I'm also going to clean up here," he said another guard appeared. "It's my mess."

"Later," I yelled as he ran after the guard.

Outside the building I was almost to my bike when my phone began to ring. The number wasn't one I recognized, but answered it anyway. "Do you have Prince Albert in can?" it asked, the voice high and cheerful, but clearly male before it came again with a gravel to it that I recognized. "Well, better let 'im go, boss. You done well bringin' our back home. I got your info, hero."

"Who bought the Ankaran Sarcophagus?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"The same information I gave your prince, I also traded to the Giovanni for a bit of juicy gossip," he said, the name ringing only a bell that they were a clan of kindred, like Lasombra and Ventrue. "They both had equal opportunity to take it, they just had a bit more...initiative."

"The Giovanni clan?" I asked, prodding Gary along.

"If you're going to play Jyhad, you need to do your homework," he told me, scolding me for not knowing more. "Knowledge is power and power has a price. But seeing as I've already got what I want from them, I'll give you a freebie. They've got skeletons in their closet, literally! I should have played the Catskills. Incest, organized crime, death cults – that's the Giovanni. Spaghettie and corpses, boss.

"Where can I find them?" I asked him as I sat atop my bike.

"Oh, I'll tell you, and if you're foolish enough to go there don't say I didn't warn you, boss."

"Dangerous huh?"

"Even we Nosferatu don't try to sneak into their mansion, boss," he told me, and I wondered what my next move was going to have to be. I wanted to get the sarcophagus myself, not go rushing back to the prince with info. "They have a mansion in the hills, I'll draw you a map of it. They're having a reunion this Friday, and anyone who isn't a Giovanni shouldn't get within fifty yards, if you catch my drift."

I did, and smiled at the thought. "Thanks, Gary," I told him and he chuckled. "I'll take my chances though."

"You get 'em, boss," he said, roaring with laughter. "You give 'em one for Gary!" he continued, then seemed to sober himself up. "If you should survive and ever need any information, come back and see me. I'm always here."

"I'll remember that," I told him, as he chuckled again. "Goodbye, Gary," I said, ending the call. I hated to say it, but I was forced to wait to Friday before I could move on the Sarcophagus. The only thing I might do was scout the mansion, but even that was likely to be a bust if I was seen and tried to sneak in at the reunion.

Sighing, I could think of only one thing I needed to do, mostly out of boredom, and maybe a bit of niceness and that was to tell Isaac I had handled Andrei and his little minions. It should be a fun experience, and I needed my daily dose of sarcasm.

Another thought entered my mind though, and that was that Isaac was heavy into Hollywood, and I had a ghoul who might make it as an actress if I could get her foot in the door. Maybe I should have a talk with Isaac about that.

Couldn't hurt, could it?

Edit/1-13-2018: Forgot to have her put her coat back on after killing Johnny. Silly me.


	39. Chapter 39 - Removing a Threat

Chapter 39 – Removing a Threat

October 4, 2004 = Monday

~Eliza Flores~

One thing I found different with the Ninja was that it was a gas hog. The small cycle was already under a quarter of a tank when I pulled into Hollywood, so I stopped it at the Shell station to top it off. My black market dealer wasn't behind the register, probably his night off after ruining the crematorium.

I did snag a new pair of shades, as I'd lost the last set in the Fu Syndicate's lab. I didn't know if they were damaged or not, and it wasn't worth the Shadowjump back to the lab and risk the lights being on, again, for a pair of shades I could replace for five bucks. My new sunglasses were a small round frame set in gold with dark black tint. Since the clerk didn't spark any interest after looking at me, I had to believe I was covering my irises well enough to be seen in public.

Riding my Ninja to Isaac's, I parked it next to his office door and went inside. Isaac was reading a binder of some kind, flipping idly through it. He frowned at seeing me, and leaned back in his chair to steeple his fingers.

"Heard the fire department was called to King's Way," he said, staring hard at me. "I wonder if it would have made any difference if I told you to leave the cowboy anticsat the city limits."

"Those little monster things that were on the tape," I told him, getting a nod from Isaac, "Infested that house. It's where they were made. I burned it down to destroy any I might have missed upstairs. Also made a nice distraction later when things started to go south with Andrei, giving me an upper hand. Bottlenecked all his little creations into the sewers that I cleaned, finding my way to the Nosferatu."

"So you know what no one else has ever figured out," he said, shaking his head. "Usually people that scour the sewers looking for the Nosferatu don't come back. Nothing has ever been proven, but the working theory is that if you need the sewer rats, let them come to you."

"Great," I muttered, wondering if I had saved or damned myself.

"You do have my thanks for the end run on Andrei, though," he said, bringing my focus back to him.

"Well," I said, deciding that if I wanted to ever push my luck on anything and do something for me, it might as well be now. "How are you doing on that actressfor your movie?"

"I'm afraid you're acting days died when you did," he told me, and I smiled at him.

"It's not for me," I told him and he cocked his head. "I can't be around too much ultraviolet radiation, either. Burns me for some reason. No, I was hoping that maybe my ghoul could audition for the part."

"A ghoul," he said, spinning a quarter turn away as he thought it over. "It has been done before, mostly with Toreador ghouls who are proficient with their presence ability. It creates a likable actor if the person has some innate ability to act."

"Well, I'm told she was on the cusp of making it in Hollywood," I told him, remembering what Brian had once told me about her. "She just didn't have that last oomph to make it on her own."

"Then we might be able to exchange favors," he said, swiveling back to face me.

"What do you have on your mind?" I asked him.

"There's a gargoyle that's taken up residence in my beloved Asian Theatre," he said, laying it out for me. "It's closed now, but that's beside the point. I'd like to renovate it, get it open again. I had sent some people to evict it, and it sent them back with a few less limbs. So it's very simple. Remove the gargoyle, and I'll give your ghoul an audition for my latest film."

"Any tips?" I asked, not knowing what a gargoyle even was.

"It's a walking block of stone with a taste for blood," he said, not being very helpful. "I'd suggest whatever method doesn't result in you being eviscerated. In truth, I'd rather have it as an ally, but I doubt it's going to be chatty. Here's the key for the theater. I'll leave the rest up to you."

"I'll take care of it," I told him as I took the key.

"And for the love of theatre," he said, making me turn back to face him as I opened the door to the outside, "Don't burn the place down."

"Sure, Isaac," I said with a smile while getting a scowl from the baron. "Stone doesn't burn anyway. Any other information on gargoyles I should know?"

"They're normally tied to the Tremere," he said, and my eyebrows went up, "Though there's no proof, yet, that the local Tremere created this one. You might ask Strauss, but more than likely he's behind it. I'd love to have the dirt that he's responsible for this one being loose in the city. I'd love to smear that under his pristine nose."

"Thanks, Isaac," I said, figuring I might need to head home first. I had stolen a book once, on my first visit to the Chantry, that listed Thaumaturgical creatures. Might be worth going home to read. "I got a line on Strauss, so maybe I can figure something out."

"Best of luck to you then," he said, and I left Isaac in his office. Hopping on my bike, I headed to the mansion, making good time as I split lanes and moved it right along.

At the house, I searched through the boxes my ghouls had packed and found the book I had stolen, and thumbed it open. It was hand written, but legible. It took me a minute of skimming, but I found several lines that talked of the large brutes.

 _'Gargoyles: During the medieval conflict with the Tzimisce, Clan Tremere delved further into secret blood magicks and created a race of protectors known as Gargoyles. Since their inception, Gargoyles have been used as scouts, warriors, and sentries. Gargoyles are monsters, vampires by virtue of the blood and flesh through which they are created. They are no more than the detritus of other clans, given a second chance to serve their Tremere creators. Unfortunately, many have wrongly come to view their service as slavery, and have fled their masters in search of some delusional Utopia. Most escaped Gargoyles live in isolation, preferring solitude to even the company of their own kind.'_

Shutting the book, I set back in the box. So, Strauss or someone at the Chantry had likely created the gargoyle, which was probably like a ghoul and that it was bound in some way. If Isaac found out this information, and that Strauss had let such a breach loose without stopping it, he could very likely have Strauss put on Trial which would end with Strauss's death. Such a position likely would make Strauss very open to negotiation, and might reveal a secret that he might not ordinarily reveal.

They were supposed to be the masters of blood, or so I had heard. Beckett had described my condition as a bad case of diablerie, or something like that, but maybe Strauss knew more. Maybe, just maybe, he could get Lasombra out.

Emboldened by this new idea, I went back to my bike and opened it up to fly to the Chantry. Parking outside on the street, I went in the front door that was watched by several cats and a few fairy-like familiarsand followed a path to the double doors that contained Strauss's personal library. The regent was sitting in his chair, reading from an aged leather bound book when I walked in, and he sat it aside as he smiled at seeing me.

"Greetings, Miss Flores," he said, then gestured for me to sit beside him. "Please, take a seat and tell me how I might be of assistance, tonight?"

"I have a question for you about gargoyles," I told him, and he seemed puzzled by that.

"Gargoyles?" he asked me, creasing his eyebrows. "Why are you asking about gargoyles?"

"It seems that one has taken up residence in an old theatre in Hollywood," I told him, and his crease deepenedmore. "I have a few questions about them, and was told the Tremere might be able to help.

"Very well," he said, steeling his face as if he were playing poker and knew he was showing his tell. "What can I tell you about them?"

"What is a gargoyle?" I asked, deciding to educate myself before this one ripped my arm off and beat me with it.

"A gargoyle, put simply," he explained, "is a creature that was created to protect the Tremere clan in the early years of our existence. They are very powerful, and not to be trifled with."

"So the Tremere created them?" I asked, laying the groundwork for my accusations to come later.

"Yes," he said simply, then creased his forehead in thought again before letting himself relax. "We used our extensive knowledge of blood magics to create a race of protectors. They served that purpose well, but they have caused many problems. It's a complicated issue."

"Just how complicated?" I asked, pushing for more. I knew I had Strauss in a corner, I hadn't seen the unflappable man show this much emotion since I'd known him.

"Well," he said, licking his lips to wetten them, "Many gargoyles still serve their Tremere masters, but a number of them have since rebelled and gone into hiding. They are a sentient race, like our familiars, but ultimately unfit for the freedom they desire. They...need the guidance of their former masters."

That last line was said as if he was choosing his words carefully, and his tells were showing. He was nervous about something, and he knew I was close to finding it out, if I hadn't already.

"Had some personal experience in this matter?" I said, studying his face for any hint of shock. What I got wasn't a hint, it was full acknowledgmentas he sighed, and nodded his head.

"Yes, I know something of gargoyles, this one in particular," he said, getting up to pace by the fire. I watched his hands, ready to summon a shadow katana and slice him from collarbone to pelvic bone if a speck of blood showed up. "I had hoped he would meet his final death, but it seems my creation still lives to torment me."

"YOUR creation," I stressed, making sure I heard it right. Isaac's words sang in my ears, and I knew I was going to have to choose my allies carefully in this matter. I needed a cure for diablerie, and only Strauss would have it.

"Yes," he said, turning back to face me. "Many years ago, I created this gargoyle to protect the chantry from our enemies. He was a faithful servant, and saved my life more than once. Unfortunately, he became increasingly upset about his role as my protector, and wished to be set free. I refused to do so, so he stole away into the night, and I haven't seen him since."

I watched as Strauss deflated, finally sitting back in his chair. He was restless, and he knew what he was telling me could be used to call his own Trial.

"I see," I said, wrapping my fingers around a shadow in case my next sentence set Strauss off. "Well, Isaac Abrams has asked me to get rid of it."

"Isaac?" he said, alarmed at the mention of the Toreador baron. "His disrespect for the Camarilla is surpassed only by his hatred of Lacroix. If it gets out..." he said trailing off as he leaned forward to put his head in his hands."

"Then I'll be called down to your own Trial," I said and his head jerked up. "You have a masquerade breaking gargoyle on the loose, and no apparent plans to bring it under control. Several kindred have lost limbs in attacking it, and the only reason it hasn't been seen by people yet is because it hides in an abandoned theater. What happens if it decides it wants to go somewhere else? Somewhere populated?"

"Questions will be asked," he said, getting back to his feet to pace by the fireplace. "Gargoyles are known to be linked to the Tremere clan, so those questions will lead them back here. If they talk to it..."

"It identifiesyou," I said and he hung his head again. Deciding it was time that I had the Tremere Regent over the barrel and could ask for what I want. "Now, the question is, what are you prepared to offer in order to make this go away?"

"Anything," he breathed, almost unheard over the crackle of the fireplace. "I can't afford to let this set our clan back in the Los Angeles area."

"Good," I said, standing to move closer to him. "Then we can do business."

"So," he said, turning to face me. "You want me to teach you the secrets of the Tremere?"

"Much more serious than that," I said, and his eyebrows rose. "I need the Tremere's help in dealing with a case of diablerie."

"Such a thing is possible," he said, lifting my hopes. "We researched that very topic when our own founder, Tremere, diablerized Saulot. Saulot, if you had not heard the name, was an Antediluvian and head of the Salubri clan. It gave our clan legitimacy, even at the cost of our leader."

"What happened to him?" I asked, wanting to know if he was successful.

"He eventually lost the battle, though by then Saulot had grown powerful enough to reject our magics," he said, and I held out a glimmer of hope. "Tremere himself was able to flee to a new body, that of another member of our clan and continue his work. Where Saulot wanders now, I do not know.

"So tell me young one," he asked, turning to face me, "Who have you diablerized that causes you such grief that you would pass over the secrets of the Tremere?"

"I didn't diablerize anyone," I told him, and Strauss cocked his head at my response. "Lasombra found me in the Void," I told him and shock coated Strauss's face. "He's trying to rise again through me. Some nights, I don't wake but he does."

"That would explain much," he said as he bowed his head in thought. "I thought you were learning your clans disciplines a bit too well without proper teaching. We might be able to achieve something, though it carries great risk."

"You can force him out of my blood and back into the Void?" I asked and Strauss nodded.

"It might also purge you from your own body," he warned, and I sighed at the thought. "If you can destroy the gargoyle without involving the clan and costing us anymore of our reputation, we will attempt to purge Lasombra from your being."

"Then we understand each other," I told him moving for the door.

"Here, take this," Strauss said, pulling a smallstone disk from on top of the fireplace. "It is an ancient ward that may help you in your battle with the gargoyle. You need only carry it on your person to enjoy its benefits."

"How does one fight a gargoyle?" I asked, taking the stone disk and stuffing it in a pocket.

"With much difficulty, I'm afraid," he said smiling, and I felt a knot of worry form in my chest. "Gargoyles are notoriously resilient. Their hides are made of stone. Firarms are almost useless. Blunt force is the only thing they understand. My advice is that you take a sledgehammer with you."

"Thanks, Strauss," I told him, opening the door. "I'll take care of it and be right back."

I left the regent in his study, probably pondering whether he should flee Los Angeles before the Sheriff came for him. That meant I had to take care of this gargoyle quickly, so I could claim my favor before Strauss was ruined. If that happened, I was going to lose my fight with Lasombra, and I couldn't afford that.

Striding quickly to my Ninja, I hopped on it and started for the nearest phone booth. Leaving the running bike on its kickstand, I went over and picked up the phonebook and searched it for hardware stores. Strauss said it'd be best if I had a sledgehammer, and I didn't know where else to turn to. Problem was, the stores were likely closed so I'd have to break in and steal one.

Hating to do it, I found the nearest store and headed there, driving by the front window slow to find a shadow to jump to. I didn't jump right then, but kept it in my sense and drove away and parked in an alley not far away. I then jumped, coming out in the store. I searched the aisles, glad I didn't have to worry about cameras seeing me.

After finding the sledgehammers, I tested the weight of each one. While I could handle a light weight one with ease, I eventually picked up the largest one they had, a sixteen pound version with a yellow fiberglass handle. It was heavy, but I figured it would swing nicely if I used my potence.

Stuffing the sledgehammer into my near empty messenger bag, I jumped back to my bike and started it. Iraced it back to Hollywood, looking for the Asian Theater. I found it, a run down older building with an Asian theme like I had seen in Chinatown. The key unlocked the door, and I ducked under the closed for restoration sign and entered it. The lobby was a large empty room with a broken skylight, but I no more stepped into the lobby when a large ten foot stone statue crashed jumped through the missing skylight.

It was huge, and as it started to stand up straight, I reached into my bag for the sledgehammer. I didn't need to make small talk with it, I had a duty to kill it, as both a threat to the masquerade and to save my soul before Lasombra destroyed it. Which could happen any dusky evening when I didn't wake up.

Holding the sledgehammer in both hands, I charged the lumbering creature just as it roared, and using potence slammed it on the creatures chest. It fell back, then back handed me into pillar. The pillar cracked as I hit it, and I slid to the floor stunned.

The gargoyle recovered, about the same time I did, and we charged each other again. Instead of repeating the same attack, I slid under the creature and went through its legs, just as it swiped for me. It missed, and I came up just as it started to stand up. I used my potence to swing the hammer again, bringing the sixteen pound hammer down hard on its shoulder.

It roared, trying to backhand me again but I ducked under his slow swing. It seemed surprised that it missed when I brought the sledgehammer across his face and chipped its nose. It roared back in shock and anger, then raised its foot to try and crush me like a bug. I rolled free of its stomp, feeling the floor tremble as it steadied itself and eyed me warily.

Facing off for a third time, I could tell by its stance that it was wary of me now, having hit three times now in two different passes and getting only one hit on me in return. It charged again, but this my I used my potence to jump high as it tried to rush low, and brought the sledgehammer down on his head again. This time, my blow knocked the gargoyle off balance, making it stumble and fall prostrate below me. I wasted no time, using potence fueled swings to chip at its back and neck, cracking the stone severely.

I was so intent on what I was doing that, that on one last swing the axe handle broke just shy of the end, leaving me holding nothing but an empty stick. No longer held down by my withering attack, the gargoyle rolled me off his back and struggled to his feet. I needed a weapon, and smiling at the big brute, jumped back to the store and stole another hammer.

Jumping back into the shadows where the brute had been standing, I charged silently at his back, jumping high once again and busting the gargoyle hard in the head. It stumbled forward, going toa knee and I jumped on its back and began to bash its back in, using my shadows to make tentacles and hold it down. The gargoyle fell flat to the floor, screeching in pain as I brought my sledgehammer down again.

This time my blow made a great dent in its hide. Held down by shadow tentacles that were stronger than it was, the gargoyle could only scream as I started to open the dent in its hide. I didn't know if what I was doing was a good thing, but with one last swing, the gargoyle gave a high pitch scream before going silent. As he did, his body suddenly broke apart, breaking at the joints.

Looking around at the broken mess, I gave a grim smile. It meant that I could get relief from Lasombra, and Angel could have her chance in the limelight. Deciding that Isaac could look at the broken corpse himself for proof, I left the broken and intact sledgehammers on the floor as I walked back outside and locked the door behind me.

Getting back on my Ninja, I rode back to Isaac's, and went inside. Isaac was once again reading the binder, further into it now, and was slowly shaking his head. When I closed the door, he looked up and smiled at me as I tossed him the theater key.

"I admit, I thoughtyou'd come back with a stone foot in your backside," he said, smiling at me. "But, I'm glad to see you've proved otherwise. You've got a lot of promise. It's a shame you're still working full time for the wrong side."

"I work for myself," I told him, and his smile faded into a scowl. "The prince is just my current employer."

"And just what did he offer to make you so loyal?" he asked me, leaning back in his chair to watch my reaction.

"First off, if I can get him his precious sarcophagus before Saturday night, which is entirely possible if I can prove it's there, I get to make a childe," I told him, and his eyes went wide. I had to figure it was a high honor, as it had its own tradition guarding the creation of one. "Besides that, I've been paid well for upholding the masquerade in the prince's domain. Plus, I'll be made primogen if I can get the number of Lasombra over five people."

"But what about later?" he asked and I shrugged my shoulders. "What do you do when he starts to work against you?"

I laughed at that, and Isaac's scowl deepened. "You called me a 'wooden soldier of the Camarilla' when I first set foot through this door, butlook at what I've done since I entered Hollywood. I hunted down a tape, waded my way through a Tzimisce's szlachta,stopped said Tsimisce's plans and found the Nosferatu lair, a feat you yourself had never been done. After all that, I've taken on and destroyed some rogue gargoyle that roamed in from out of town that your own men couldn't destroy. Yet you still don't get it? I have the raw talent to get things done. The prince himself realizes that, and rewards me. I have a thirty million dollar home I'm buying from the scourge, and I'm constantly proving people are wrong."

"So it would seem," he said, and I think I saw fear flash through him. Maybe he was starting to realize that the prince had an agent that was a steam roller. He took a business card from off his desk, and used a pen to write on the back of it. "I still owe you an audition, and I'll honor it. Don't worry that any prejudices I have will affect your ghoul, the director will determine if she gets the part. The director's name is Scorsese, and the time and place to meet him is on the card. Just have your ghoul show the guards the card to get to the meeting, and the rest is up to her."

"Thanks, Isaac," I told him, taking the card he handed to me. "I didn't hardly tear up the theater, for what it's worth. Just a skylight and a pillar."

"And thank you," he replied, leaning back over his binder to continue reading. "Now I can start the remodel and get my beloved theater back in operation."

"Your welcome," I said, easing out the door. I couldn't help but feel as if I had painted a target on my back with the Toreadors, biting and feeding off Damsel, then VV, and now I had unsettled Isaac with how good I dangerous I could be. If the baron truly had Hollywood's best interests at heart, he might try to take me out.

Uneasy, I sat atop my bike and started, noting the time was about two in the morning. I stared at the clock for a moment, then decided I better go check with Strauss and tell him the good news. I didn't waste any time, the light traffic allowing me to open the bike to ninety with no problems and soon arrived at the chantry.

Going inside, I saw several of the familiars and cats still watching the entrance. One immediately jumped down, a large gray haired cat with black spots and darted over to me. It bit at my pants leg, tugging on the hem, then released it and darted to the far end. It waited there, meowing at me and I began to follow it. It led the way to a set of doors, then pawed at a closed door. I opened the door for the kitty, going inside to find Strauss and Eloise sketching an elaborate rune covered pentagram on the floor.

"Ah, Miss Flores," Strauss said as he straightened from his work. "Eloise and I were finishing the preparation for the ritual that should purge you of Lasombra's influence. I do trust that Isaac was not able to discern the gargoyle's true origin."

"Not unless he gets proof from somewhere else," I told him. "All I told him was that it was a rogue gargoyle from out-of-town, which is true in the fact that it's from Los Angeles and in Hollywood. I'm not in the habit of lying, but I don't mind twisting the truth."

"Very good," he said, smiling as he stood back to allow Eloise to check all the symbols. "Toreador have an ability called Auspex that allows them to tell if one is telling the truth. Likely Isaac used this ability when you reported back, making sure the deal was done and to determine the origins of the rogue gargoyle in question. But because you didn't give him any good information to go off, and meant what you said about it being from out of town, he will likely figure its from another chantry. His ambitions have been halted for the night."

"So you'll purge Lasombra from me?" I asked and Strauss nodded his head.

"I just hope we do it right," Eloise said, studying the book she held as she double checked the complex magical runes before her. "We don't, there's no telling what we could unleash."

"This was the final step that Tremere took in ridding himself of Saulot's influence," Strauss said, looking the room over. "We only know that he failed, but he survive the encounter by transferring his soul to his childe."

"I guess Antediluvians aren't to be meddled with," I said and Eloise chuckled.

"They essentially have the power of gods," she said, snapping the book closed and stepping away from the runes. "Even this ritual won't destroy him, just send him back to where he came from. He might be able to rise again through another of his clan."

"Won't be me, though," I said, watching as Eloise started drawing another rune on a small rock.

"True, but because of the sensitive nature of this ritual, we are using a backup to protect ourclan," Strauss said, watching as Eloise coated her hand in blood and transferred it to the rock. It shimmered over the rock for a moment, and she took it in both hands and held it out to me.

"This is our insurance policy," she said, setting into my left hand. "If you lose control, the spell I put on the rock will rebound into you, hopefully before Lasombra realizes what happened."

"What will it do?" I asked and she grimaced.

"Remember Kenny?" she said and I nodded numbly. Kenny had exploded after Celeste threw a blob of blood at him. "If you don't wake up, it should do Lasombra in."

"Alright," I said, and stepped into the circle at Eloise's direction. She then took a knife, slicing my right hand, and had me kneel in the center of the circle.

"Just place your hand in the center of the circle," she said, moving to the edge of the room. "As with your painting, your blood will activate it, and you begin the fight of your life."

"If I don't see you again," I said, steeling myself for what was to come, "Thanks for trying."

"And thank you for your discretion," Strauss said. Him and Eloise stood shoulder to shoulder and flexing my hand I set it on the circle.

Red and gray mists rose from the circle, and then a jolt of electricity surged through me, locking me in place. I tried to rip my hand free, but it wouldn't move. The mists rose over me, and suddenly I was pulled head first into the Void, sure that no one but me could hear my scream.

* * *

Edit: 2/6/18 - Fixed an error in Isaac's line about the director. It was from an unfinished edit that I didn't catch. Thank you Darkladyvanstar for pointing it out.


	40. Chapter 40 - Purging A Demon

Chapter 40 – Purging a Demon

October 4, 2004 = Monday

~Eliza Flores~

I didn't know where I was, but the landing hurt, and the ground was hard. I opened my eyes, but with the darkness around us, all I could see was we were in a barren wasteland covered in small boulders. I lay there for a long moment, finally forcing myself to get to my knees to find I was still dressed in the clothes I wore in the chantry. Not far away, a man also got to his feet, realizing only after he looked up at me that it was Lasombra wearing a male version of what I did.. I scrambled the rest of the way to my feet, squaring off with my clan forefather, but he didn't attack.

No, he did something I didn't expect; he knelt with both knees on the ground then placed his head to the earth.

I paused, wondering why he knelt not twenty feet away when I felt it. A sense of dread, like the feeling I got when Simeon was driving me to Long Beach to be raped. My beast crawled around under my skin, as if I were about to flake out. I looked around, the dread building and my beast getting wilder as I saw a man walking towards us, a dark aura around him that gripped my soul in its dark hands.

In the end, it was the dread that made me hit my knees, and then I felt something else happen; the beast that had been wanting to rip its way out of my skin fell quiet within me. I never felt so alone in that moment, and I think it scared me more than the dark one walking towards us.

"Hello, Lucian," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. "Still trying to overthrow me?"

"Always, old man," Lasombra said, and I realized that Lucian must have been Lasombra's true name. "One day, me and the others will wipe out everything you have worked for, and this world will be ours!"

"It was never ours to take," the Dark One said, then turned to me. "Eliza Flores, such a curious sort you are. Warrior, academic, healer, philanthropist, assassin; such an odd sort. Rob you of what you cherish most, and you start anew. Place an object in your path, and you carve a new one that's even better. If it weren't for your curiosity and desperation that brings you here today, I might have even traveled to meet you in your city to test you for myself."

"Who are you?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer. Whoever he was, he had power over Lasombra and the beast within me, and there weren't many that came to mind that could do that.

The Dark One tilted his head, smirking at me as he again spoke.. "What I am is curious to see how one survives a fight with a ten thousand year old kindred," he said, his voice calm as he observed us.

"She'll not lay a finger on me," Lucian snarled, the fear that consumed me ebbing away. I frantically tried to think of a way to fight, deciding that the only way I was going to get a weapon was to mold one from shadow.

As we stood, Lasombra made a motion in the air and then scowled, and the katana I was willing into existence also failed to appear. We both looked at each other, shock on our faces before turning our heads slowly to the other man.

"She is but young," the dark aura man remarked, smirking at a powerless Lucian. "You may fight on an equal footing; no less, no more."

"Then she will still die," Lucian snarled, charging at me. Instinct from practice made me backup, throwing off his initial attack and striking back with the flat of my palm to his chest. Lucian clutched at his ribs as he fell back, then dove low in an effort to tackle me.

I tried to jump over him, but his tackle was a ruse, and he stopped directly under me, causing me to fall directly on top of him. They uneven surface of his body caused me to fall beside him, where Lucian grappled in the dirt. We wrestled briefly, but Lucian's larger size gave him a distinct advantage and he soon had me pinned.

"I win," Lucian snarled, confident in his victory."

"She is still alive," was Dark One's reply, and I closed my eyes as I said a silent prayer.

I swore once, to never do this again, that it was dangerous and unneeded, but here I was needing it. When my sister had first been raped, many long years ago, I had taken karate lessons. I applied myself to my studies, and though when I first started my journey I was a weak, scared little girl that only knew weak little girls came home bleeding and crying and had to spend several nights in the hospital and cried at the drop of a hat, I grew to be a strong resilient teen that no boy could ever rape. I had trained myself into a living weapon, that could respond to a threat before my brain even registered it.

Because of that, because a simple minded boy who was eager to show me some special something he found grabbed me by the shoulder, I too paid a price; regret. I had learned to become a weapon, but I never learned to control it. I just was, and that poor simple minded boy suffered for my failure.

After him, I refused to fight or train again, though I guess I never lost my fearless attitude. I still walked the streets after dark, traveled alone, and generally cared for myself. It took me losing everything to rely on Sammie for a place to stay, and even then I was working on putting my feet back down. I could still fight back, but now I used my mind. I forced myself to think before I acted, but as I looked up Lucian's hate filled face, I knew the time for me to stay my hand had ended. It was time for me to uncage the monster I locked up with the regret for Tom Cullen, and let Lucian know what a real warrior I was.

Bringing my feet up, I wrapped them around Lucian's head and used my leg muscles to throw him off me. Lucian must have been used to having potence to assist his strength, because he didn't try to stop my legs from wrapping around him but just held on tighter to my body. His tactic didn't work, and in moments I was on my feet while Lucian sputtered in the dirt. His murderous look might've wilted my soul if he still had presence, but this was a fight to the death without our vampiric powers, and he was ten thousand years out of practice.

Scrambling to his feet, he tried to box and grapple with me, but I used my advanced karate techniques to slap his hands, arms and kicks aside, while using palm, knee and elbow to bruise and beat him down. Again and again he charged, our tireless bodies meeting in a flurry of blows and kicks, and I proved to Lucian that I was a force to be reckoned with.

Soon, Lucian made a critical mistake and without thinking, without thought, I give him a spiked heel to his nose that ripped most of it off. Lucian fell back, holding his sensitive appendage, but all I could see was Tom Cullen crying and trying to shield himself, so I held back.

"Go on, young one," the Dark One said, coming closer as Lucian struggled to see past his ruined nose. "The fight is yours, is it not?"

"I don't want to be the monster, sir," I said, relaxing my pose. "I don't kill like that."

"Even though he tried to destroy you, you would show him mercy?" he asked and I nodded.

"I don't want to be the monster," I reiterated, then thought of the gargoyle I had destroyed to get here. It might have been its own creature in the end, escaping Strauss's control. But he was attacking me, and the gargoyle was more than capable of ripping me limb from limb. "If you can, banish him back to where he came from. I didn't want him in my life to begin with."

"Are you sure?" he asked, and I nodded my head. In a swirl of shadow and blood, Lucian disappeared. "Then so be it," he said.

"Thank you," I told him, glad to be rid of his influence for good.

"I wondered if your humanity had faltered, as it has with so many of our kind," he said, melancholy tainting his voice. "So much violence for its own sake, destruction of our blood for no other reason than to increase their own standing and violating the sacred Traditions set down ten thousand years ago."

"The same Traditions the Camarilla uphold today?" I asked and he nodded. Wow, the Camarilla must have been around for a long time.

"Indeed," he said, setting his eyes back on me. "But I see we are not as lost as I had begun to fear. Remember, young one," he said, turning his back to me as he began to walk away. "Wherever we go, it's the blood that makes our fate. Farewell, Miss Flores."

With that, the world I had been in dissolved into the room I knelt in. I was still kneeling, my left hand around a rock and my right in the circle. I leaned back on my heels, feeling relief at the thought that Lucian was no longer in my head, and when I turned to see Strauss and Eloise both with blood covered hands, I smiled at them, even as I took in the wrinkles of their business-like suits.

"It's me," I said, releasing the rock. "Lucian, Lasombra rather, is gone."

"It worked?" Eloise asked and I smiled at her as she gave a whoop of joy.

"I am impressed," Strauss said, giving me a rare smile. "What was it like?"

"A big barren wasteland," I told him, remembering the battle. "We fought without our powers, and I think Lasombra had never learned to fight in the last ten thousand years without them."

"That may explain why Tremere failed against Saulot," Strauss said, hand rubbing his chin. "A mage without his magic is worthless against a seasoned warrior. It is how we fight, to be robbed of that?"

"I'd lose in a heartbeat," Eloise added, growing somber. "How did you survive?" she asked me, studying me.

"I was a black belt in karate when I was fifteen," I told her, and her eyes went wide. "I didn't need a weapon or powers to be deadly, I just had to let my body react like it wants to."

"I guess you killed him?" Eloise asked, and I shook my head.

"No, there was another person there," I told them, getting to my feet. "He never said his name, but Lasombra, or Lucian I should say, called him 'Old Man.' Seemed like he had built something that Lucian and the others ripped apart."

"Enoch," Strauss breathed, rubbing his chin in thought. "Lucian and the other antidiluvians are said to have destroyed the First City in their bid for power. That city was built by Cain."

"Biblical Cain?" I asked and Eloise nodded slowly.

"According to legend, Cain was the first," she told me. "He started Enoch, the first city. It was a paradise where kindred and kine lived together in peace. Cain fathered the Second Generation, and depending on your source whether it was three or five people, and they fathered thirteen more, the Third Generation.

"Supposedly, in the beginning," Eloise continued, "They all got along. Cain forbade siring more and his order was followed. In the end, the Third Generation betrayed the Second, killing them all and took the city for their own. Some say the Second Generation survived the Great Flood from the Bible, not being killed till they had built the Second City, again by the Third Generation."

"Sounds as if no one knows what happened," I told her.

"Despite some of us counting our age in centuries," Eloise said, her voice sad as she shook her head, "And more counting their age in millennia, we don't know what happened at the beginning. We have a book, the Book of Nod, which is supposed to catalog the beginning but we don't have the whole thing. Parts are missing."

I sighed, the old adage that everything faded in time reminding me that even our origins were shrouded in a bit of mystery. That we seemed to stem from Cain's curse seemed fitting to me, but it brought up more questions.

"So, what's the deal with generation?" I asked them, wondering where we fell on the scale of things.

"It's how far removed from the original vampire," Eloise told me, as Strauss drifted out the door. "Most kindred today are probably twelfth and thirteenth generation, though older kindred are more likely to be lower."

"Does it affect anything?" I asked her and she gave me a curious look.

"It's mostly a cap on how powerful you can become," she said, giving me the rundown. "Think of it this way, in five hundred years, you will still not be as powerful as your sire, who in turn is never as strong as his sire. Every time you sire new kindred, they'll be weaker than you, and so on and so forth. But there are ways of lowering your generation, like the diablerie you carried out."

"Diablerie?" I asked her, not really getting the word. I knew it was something bad, something about feeding from other kindred, but not exactly what.

"Feeding from another kindred until you kill them," she told me, her words light but the weight of them hitting me hard.

"Feeding from other kindred," I said, moving to sit in a chair in a corner.

"Until you kill them," she finished, making an important distinction for me. "You fed from kindred?" she asked me, catching on to my horror.

"A few times," I told her. "I think Lucian did something to me. Human blood doesn't really satisfy me anymore."

Eloise looked a little perturbed by that, then brought a table over by me. "Let me see your hand," she asked, coating her hand in blood. I gave her mine, and the blood pooled over my hand, forming an eleven, then shimmered and formed a four.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said. "Fourth generation kindred."

"Is that good?" I asked her, and she nodded.

"That makes you one of the most powerful kindred around," she told me. "Hell, even I'm tenth generation, and I doubt Lacroix is any higher."

"Does that give me any advantage?" I asked her and she nodded.

"It means you can't be dominated by anyone," she told me and I give her a quizzical look. "Ventrue, even we Tremere, have the ability to force others to do what we want. It doesn't always work, and it can anger people when it doesn't and they know what we tried to do. It's one way of making a forever enemy."

"You mean, Lacroix could force me to do whatever he wants," I said, remembering coming away from a meeting with Lacroix feeling as if I'd been gypped.

"Maybe, when you were first turned," she told me. "He can't do that anymore. Hell, there's only a Tremere who can dominate you now, and maybe one Ventrue, since Mithras died in London."

"Select club, huh," I said dryly and she nodded.

"It also means your powers can grow beyond anything most of the Lasombra you'll meet are capable of," she told me. "It also means that you are becoming what the other fourth and fifth generation kindred are; a Methuselah."

"And that is?" I prompted her, and she bit her lip as if she were nervous about something.

"The order that kindred progress starts at fledgling. That's a newly created kindred, then progresses to neonate, who is old and mature enough to be responsible for their own actions. After that, it gets fuzzy. The next level up is Ancilla, who are usually at least a century old and fairly powerful. They're the most common kindred you'll ever meet, as I'm one of them.

"The next level up is Elder," she said, continuing my lesson. "They are powerful kindred, not only because of personal power, but in political power as well. Strauss, Lacroix and Isaac are the true Elders of Los Angeles, as they have their own domains over their fellow kindred."

"What about Therese Voerman?" I asked her. "She claims domain in Santa Monica."

"Mainly because no kindred resides there," she told me. "Break the masquerade there and see who comes for your head."

"Point taken," I said, figuring that Lacroix would send his deputies after whoever breached the masquerade.

"The last level is Methuselah," she said, and a hint of sadness crept into her voice. "I only met one once, in Vienna. Lucky for me he wasn't after my blood."

"Would that be bad?" I asked her and she give me a shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, when you're being fed from, or so I've read, you don't have much ability to stop their feeding," she told me. "That means it's easy for them to keep feeding until they drop you into torpor or kill you outright."

"And whether or not you awake the next night or a year from then," I said and it clicked into place. It would be scary to be fed from like that, not knowing if you were going to survive or not.

"So you see why I say lucky," she told me. "Um, while I have you here, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Sure," I said, as she eyed the closed door. A large tabby stood there, but he wasn't facing us, but seemed to be acting as a sentry.

"Did Strauss actually offer to teach the secrets of Tremere magic to you in exchange for destroying his rogue gargoyle?" she asked me.

"Yes," I said, and she shook her head.

"That's what I had heard," she said, putting her head in her hands as she hunched over. "I don't guess you understand the ramifications of someone not of Tremere blood learning our secrets?"

"Not really," I said, eyeing her as she rubbed her face. "I guess it's a crime in your clan? Strauss once told me not to seek out the mysteries."

"A crime?" she said, lifting her head to look at me. "One punishable by death. We are very strict about that."

"I guess you need me to testify to that to some type of governing body?" I asked her.

"Lord Barkiss in New York City," she informed me. "He'd likely come here to handle this personally, as it's a regent who's selling us out, rather then sending a lackey. Then again, we might even get a council member here."

"So who'd replace him?" I asked her, wanting to know who I would be dealing with when I dealt with the Tremere in the future. I kind of liked Strauss, he was a seeming straight shooter that didn't delve into the political double talk that I hated so much.

"I would," Eloise then said, leaning back in her chair. "I am the magister here."

"So you'd have a lot to gain if I would testify on your behalf," I said, and she turned her head to eye me.

"Yes," she drawled, as if she wasn't liking where I was going. "I'd be Strauss's replacement, including his role as primogen. As the leading Tremere in Los Angeles, I'd have considerable political clout, and would be free to direct the chantry how I saw fit. Let me guess, you want a boon in exchange for your testimony to Lord Barkiss, because there are so few who can force the information out of you."

I give her a smile, knowing she was on the right track. I already had an idea how I wanted that boon paid, since it would likely be the only way I could feed. "Yes," I told her and again she sank back into the chair.

"I guess magic truly does come with a price," she muttered as if she didn't want to do this.

"Are you interested?" I asked her and Eloise nodded her head.

"It really isn't even a choice," she said absently. "One of the highest offices in the city in exchange for being your food source. How often would you want to feed from me? Monthly? Weekly?"

"The start of every night," I told her and she snapped upright in her chair.

"Every night?" she said aghast.

"Yes," I told her, giving her a hard eye.

"You do know that if I fail, and Strauss is bound to know it's me once Lord Barkiss gets here, that my life won't be worth spit if Strauss manages to avoid the charge."

"What will happen to you then?"

"More than likely I'll get kicked out of the chantry," she said, staring at me hard. "He'll also try to have me killed, or do it himself."

"So, if we fail, I'll have made an enemy of one of the most lethal kindred in town," I said, making it more of a statement than a question.

"Well, you remember what happened to Kenny," she said, referencing the day we first met not long ago. "Strauss can not only boil your blood, he's mastered a new form of domination. Supposedly he can use the blood of a ghoul as a link and send domination up and down that link."

"So if he got my ghoul he could try dominating me? I thought you said only equal or lower generation kindred could dominate me?" I said, distrusting the woman. Was she lying to me?

"Well, before Lucian somehow raised your generation, he likely could have," she told me, making me collapse back in the chair. "But, if wanted, he could dominate your ghouls into staking you and bringing you back to the chantry."

"Wouldn't they be loyal to me?" I asked, remembering what was said about ghouls being slaves to their kindred masters.

"If you had dominate, you could make people act like your ghouls even if they had never tasted your blood," she told me, then cocked her head to the side as if she'd thought of something. "Up for a test to see how strong your blood is?"

"What do you have in mind?" I asked her, not sure if I could trust her.

"Older kindred sometime can manifest different abilities," she told me, and I thought about my new powers of celerity. "If you don't know what you're doing, discovering them can be hit or miss. Some, like dominate, require more instruction to fully understand. One of the fundemental aspects of dominate is the ability to give one word orders that have to be obeyed."

"So if I said dance?" I asked and Eloise nodded, as she continued, "I'd get up and dance."

"So how does it work as a power?" I asked her.

"Look into my eyes, then push your will into a word," she told me, staring at me to make it easier to look into her eyes. I did, then pushing my will into the one command that was on my mind, said "Strip." Eloise got up without a word, then began to undo her blouse. She was actually pulling it off her shoulders, exposing her white cotton bra, when she suddenly realised what she was doing and yanked her shirt back closed and gave me a devilish look.

"Funny," she said without any warmth as she rebuttoned her shirt.

"I had to make it something that you wouldn't normally do, and that was all I could think of," I told her with a smile.

"Well, you have the powers of dominate," she told me as she situated her shirt properly back into the waistband of her skirt. "Willing to push how far you can go with it?"

"What's on your mind?" I asked her, and she looked nervous, as if what she was about to risk teaching me something she shouldn't.

"Look into my eyes, and instead of pushing your will into words, push your will into me," she said. "If it works, please remember, you are taking control of my body, so please be careful what you do."

"How do I stop?" I asked her, wanting to make sure I wasn't stuck as her and get us both in trouble.

"Will yourself out of my mind and you'll snap back into your body," she said, and I nodded at the simpleness of it.

Looking deep into her eyes again, I pushed my will into her, then with a stretching feeling in my brain, found myself looking at myself. My body acted like a marionette doll who's lines had been cut, collapsing into the chair I had been setting in. Looking down, I realized I was now in Eloise's body. Curiousity made me pat myself down, finding it odd to be feeling a body that wasn't my own.

Stepping over to my body, I found it as cold and lifeless as a corpse, as if I truly was dead. It was with a grim smile I realized I could suddenly fake my own death easily by possessing a paramedic and then carry my 'corpse' back to the ambulance and take it home.

Willing myself out, I had to lift my head to look at Eloise. She smiled at me, then went back to her chair. "Even I can't do that one to kine," she told me as she sat down, crossing her legs. "It's not quite full mastery of dominate, there's more powerful things you can do with it, but I don't even know what they are. I can probably look it up, but it'd take time."

"Are you trying to distract me from feeding from your neck?" I asked her, a thought about why she would be offering to teach me various disciplines popping into my mind.

"Yes," she said somewhat sheepishly. "It's just, once you know what all I know about feeding, even from other kindred, you tend to not allow anyone the chance to bite your neck."

"So, I can feed from you, or you can teach me everything I don't already know?" I asked her and she nodded, telling me I had it right. "Does that include Tremere blood magic?"

"Thaumaturgy is the one thing I can't teach you," she said, drawing a line on that. "I can teach what the Tremere know about the other disciplines, but not thaumaturgy."

I sat there, thinking about her offer but decided that I needed her blood more than I needed her knowledge. It was too difficult to acquire, and I could already feel the need to feed again. "Blood," I told her, making her slump in her chair. "Like kine to a kindred, I need your blood more than I need your knowledge and wisdom."

"Alright," she said, consigning herself to be the first real kindred in my herd of blood dolls, meaning I could pass Constance off to whomever I chose for a childe. "But there aren't any freebies on blood. I was hoping to whet your appetite with the stuff on dominate, but you didn't bite. I guess you really do hunger for kindred blood."

"More than you know," I told her, then rose from my chair. "I guess I need to try and find a neck to bite. You might want to be quick on getting word to Lord Barkiss, lest Strauss get onto us and silence you. I won't risk alienating Strauss if you're dead."

"Alright," she said, standing up to join me. "I can have word to him by tonight, and I'll let you know. Phone number?"

I told her my number, and we started out the door. Silence fell between us as we walked, as more cats and familiars walked the halls or peaked around furniture. I could only hope our conversation in what appeared to be the attic of the chantry had been private, probably why Keenan had stood guard for us.

Outside the chantry, I stood for a moment as I thought about what I needed to do. I needed to see Venus Dare about that bet, and check on my ghouls at Four-Play. It was time for their feeding, as it'd been almost a week since they'd been fed initially.

I was about to climb on the Ninja when my phone rang. I pulled it out and answered it, hoping it wasn't a prank call. It wasn't, it was Fat Larry.

"Baby girl," he said once I'd opened the line. "Just got a call from a friend that needs some work done. Kind of basic stuff, not like that stuff you pulled for me earlier."

"Who for?" I asked him, hoping it wasn't someone important so I could blow it off.

"Girl of mine called Venus," he said, and I smiled at realizing I might have a way into her good graces. "She got problems, needs a messenger that don't mind getting out of a tight spot."

"Sure," I said, glancing at the clock on the Ninja as I turned the key on. It was getting early. "But it's a bit late, if you know what I mean. Think you can set it up where I can I meet her tonight, say eight?"

"Sure," he said, sounding happy. "I'll tell her your own you way down. My advice, bring plenty of little friends, if you catch my drift."

"I got some ideas," I told him, and he chuckled darkly at that. "Got something that might make Clint Eastwood envious."

"That's my girl," he said. "Hey, I gotta customer coming, so I'll talk at ya later," he said, then the line went dead. I smiled as I tucked the phone in my pocket, glad I didn't have anything coming up tonight. Really all that was left was to repopulate my house, and Duke may need his second dose, so I started my Ninja and headed for Four-Play/

Pulling up in front of the club, the neon lights were still blazing away as they tried to attract customers. Going inside, I found a pair of girls sitting on the counter dressed only in lingerie as they advertised what was to come. The bouncer at the door just waved me on through, opening the door to the main area and I walked on into the techno beat that was playing. Dancers sat around the club, each one trying to entice me to their table.

Only Angel and Sharron didn't try, each giving me a smile as I approached. They positively glowed, telling me each was still running strong in my blood, but it was Sharron who flinched first as I neared them. Looking in the ghoul's brown eyes, I could already see the fear hidden there as I got closer. I knew what she was afraid of, that I was here to send her to make adult movies for extra cash. It was always an option, especially if she didn't rake in the money, but that wasn't why I was here today.

Walking by her and hearing her audible sigh of relief, it was Angel who then tensed. When I got closer and didn't angle away, I thought I could see a flash of fear behind her greenish eyes, fear that grew when I stopped in front of her table.

"Yes?" she said, her hand gripping her drink as she looked into my eyes.

"Got a movie call for you," I told her, giving her the card Isaac had given me. "You meet the director at the time and place on the card, and if the guards give you any gruff, show them the card and you should get right in."

"Oh, sweet," she said, her shoulders relaxing as she took the card. "Which director is it?"

"Scorsese," I told her and her draw dropped.

"Martin Scorsese?" she asked in an astonished voice.

"Yes, so don't blow your audition," I told her and she nodded as she slipped the card down into her bra. "You don't want to know what I had to do to get that audition, so make it count."

"Yes, ma'am," she said enthusiastically, as she gave me a smile. "Finally, my chance to get out of this dump."

"Duke still in his office?" I asked and she nodded.

"Seems to have a headache, been grouchy all night," she told me. I nodded, figuring he was needing his fix and gave Angel a smile as I walked to his office.

The guards opened the door as I turned the corner, allowing me in without asking any questions. Duke must have talked with his people and told them to treat me with respect, because everyone seemed to know I was at least running part of the show here.

Duke sat behind his desk, seemingly staring at a ledger. I could tell he was having trouble concentrating by the way he kept rubbing at his temples, and that he didn't acknowledge me until I rapped my knuckles on his desk.

"Ah, just the woman I been wanting to see," he said, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "Been thinking I should call your boy Brian, because I feel funny."

"It's time for your fix," I told him. Duke stood on his feet, looking unsteady as if he'd been drinking all night and was hung over. I bit my wrist, letting the blood flow out and Duke sucked greedily on it until I pulled him off. When his eyes cleared from the ecstasy, he stood straight and tall again.

"I needed that," he said, flexing and stretching his muscles.

"So, where is the motel?" I asked him, and he gave me directions. "Thanks, for the information, Duke. How's the business going?"

"Got that new girl, Sugar, broke in after you left last night, though it took a few hours," he told me. "She ought to start making money now. She going to be able to keep that attraction stuff up?"

"Not for much longer," I told him, making him frown. "She's got to have her blood fix to keep doing it, but she's run away from her master."

"What will happen to her? Not that I'm thinking of running away, I just want to know what happens if you disappear."

"Like tonight, you get surly and start to feel bad, then you get violent," I told him. "You end up acting like a druggie wanting his fix, getting violent if you can't find it. Eventually it passes, and depending on how long you been sucking my wrist is to what happens next."

"What do you mean?" he asked me, a curious look on his face.

"Your body will age, so if you're older than a human should be..."

"You pull a Crypt Keeper," he said, getting the picture. "Well, I won't keep you. I know you're running out of time."

"Let me know when Sugar starts to get surly," I told him, inching towards the door. "I'd hate to lose her and maybe I can convince her to take my blood."

"Will do, later mistress," he said, and I stepped out the door.

Taking the alley exit, I walked back around to my bike, and headed for the motel. The sky was brightening in the east, so I pushed it a bit and parked out front. The guy already had spare keys to the two rooms laid out for me, so all I had to do was unlock the door and go in.

The first door I unlocked turned out to be Constance and Heather's room. Heather looked delighted to see me while Constance had a more sour look. "You're back," Heather said, running to embrace me and abandoning the leather coat she was making. "I'm almost done with the new coat. I should have it ready by tonight."

"Good," I said, and Constance sidled away from me.

"Is it really you?" she asked me, as if she were afraid Lucian was inside me.

"It's me, Constance," I told her, relief flooding her face. "I got rid of him, so it's just me now. You won't have to worry about getting hurt when I wake up."

"I was so worried," she said, coming over and giving me a hug. "I didn't want to have to run away again."

"No more running away for you," I told her and she hugged me again. "I'm working with a friend who's studying law and we're going to get proper custody of you."

"Do you think Charlie will agree to it?" she asked me, and I nodded.

"I can guarantee it," I told her and she hugged me again.

"So, I guess we need to be at your mansion tonight?" Heather asked and I nodded.

"Yes, I have lots to do and hunting down the gang will be a waste of time," I told her. "You can move everything back in while I'm asleep, which won't be long from now."

"Alright," Heather said, glancing around the motel room. "We'll see you at dusk."

I left the pair in their room, going down a few to where Brian was likely staying. I no more opened the door and looked in before shutting it again, the image of Brian and his lover burned into nonexistent irises. I quickly went back to Heather and and Constance's room, and opened the door.

"Hey, would you mind letting Brian know to come home after he gets done with the bimbo?" I asked them and the began to giggle.

"Sure," Heather said, trying her best to suppress her laughter. "But I think he's in love with the place."

"Only if I get someone else to protect me," I said and they began smiling at each other.

"Better not tell him that," Constance said with a big smile on her face. "He'll be lining up people to take his spot just so he can come back here."

"If that weren't the last thing I needed," I said, shaking my head. "Oh well, see you tonight," I told them, shutting the door.

Looking at the pre-dawn sky, I decided it was time to quit fooling around, and quickly sat astride the Ninja and brought it to life. As I had done the night of Jose's trial, I didn't back up the bike, and instead just turned it on a dime and headed straight back out the drive. The entire way home I kept the bike in the triple digits, glad that traffic was against people entering LA and not leaving it.

Pulling into my drive, I looked around at the shadows on the ground as the sky began to lose its pink and turn blue. Feeling tired, I went inside and straight down the stairs to my room, sealing the door behind me. Sleep was already pulling at me, so I peeled off my clothes before crawling nude into bed, asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Sorry about the long wait, there's been a bunch of problem's in my personal life. That and there's nothing harder to write than this political stuff. Hope you enjoy it, and a big thanks to all who leave reviews! It makes it so much more fun to write knowing I'll have reviews to read.

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, and the next night? Venus Dare makes her glorious appearance.

Please remember to check out my Upcoming Story Ideas, which can be found here - s/12370971/1/Upcoming-Story-Ideas - They contain all the stories I work on when I get writers block, or if I watch something and get inspired.

Reviews are always welcome!


	41. Chapter 41 - Of Life and Death

Chapter 41 – Of Life and Death

October 5, 2004 = Tuesday

~Eliza Flores~

Waking the next night, I grabbed my robe and headed upstairs to the shower. I knew my ghouls were home by Avril Lavigne playing in the great room, though I didn't see anyone. The shower itself felt good, and when I went down to my room, Heather had some clothes laid out for me, with the new leather duster displayed on a mannequin.

I examined the duster, the black leather with its red velvet lining neatly hiding the scabbard for my katana. I went to my wardrobe and pulled the katana out. Turning back to the duster, I slipped it home in it's leather sheath. Checking the coat again, I was pleasantly shocked to see the duster hiding the blade without a single line to mark its presence.

Nodding my head, I began to get dressed, but instead of donning the slacks that were laid out for me, went to the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of black leather pants my ghouls had bought and put those on instead, as it went with my biker chick image better. Next, I slipped into my boots and a red spandex shirt, previously purchased by my ghouls on a shopping trip and run the belt around my waist with the Glock in its holster at my back. Heather made short work of my makeup, keeping it light so it wouldn't get messed up while I rode with the wind in my face.

Pulling the leather coat off the mannequin, I slipped it on, finding it a bit heavier than my last duster, and stiffer. I then took the katana I had and slipped it home into the built in leather sheath at my back, and put on my shades. Considering myself dressed, I left my private room, and went back upstairs, following the sound of Hoobastank up the stairs.

Entering the Great Room, I found we had a guest, a beautiful brown haired woman in a wine colored dress that pooled at her feet to tell me it had a full length skirt, like the dress I had acquired from Jezebel Locke. She rose as I came in, prompting my ghouls to rise before she bowed her head to me. I took in her attire, the deep plunge of her neckline to her navel showcasing her assets behind a sheer panel with cutaway panels under her arms. It showcased her beauty and status as a human, so I had to wonder who she was and why she was here.

"Mademoiselle Flores," she said in highly accented French, leading me to believe she was a native speaker. "My lady, Michelle Riviere, would like to meet with you at the earliest opportunity."

"Ah, that would make you Remy," I said, remembering what Damsel had told me of Michelle's ghoul.

"Oui," she said simply, nodding her head. "I have a car waiting for you outside to take you to my lady's estate. I will also return you to your haven or anywhere you wish to go when your meeting is done."

I stood there, pondering my options. I needed to speak to Michelle, get the track on the best way to bring down Lacroix, though I was starting to learn how his operation worked. I had my fears that he would turn on me if he ever got the opportunity, especially after having so openly defied him. He had to be plotting my downfall, even though he currently had me under boon.

With that thought in mind, another thought came to me. I may not be the elder in years, but I was certainly starting to see myself as the most powerful single kindred in the city. I wouldn't go so far to say I had mastered every ability, yet, but I was already making huge strides in abilities my clan didn't have. My celerity was fast enough for me to remain untouched in a fight, and even a century, or centuries as it was hard to tell, old Tremere couldn't match my dominate ability.

So it was that I nodded my head and accepted her offer. I could use Michelle's help in navigating the political minefield that was bound to be the cities primogen council and prince, especially if I was to be named a primogen for the Lasombra.

Remy flashed me a smile, bowing in front of me before moving forward and gesturing for me to follow. "My car awaits us outside," she said, stepping past me towards the door.

Turning back to my ghouls, I gave them a smile. "I'll be back for my motorcycle and makeup when I'm done," I told them, and then turned and followed Remy outside.

Remy stood beside a pearl gray Maybach, a chauffeur driven car used by the rich and elite as a substitute for a limo, it's large rear door open for me to enter. I slipped inside, noting the immaculate cream colored leather as I settled in and Remy shut the door for me. It seemed she was acting the part of chauffeur tonight as well as courier, and was likely Michelle's only ghoul. That left me wondering who was doing Michelle's makeup, and what shape the Toreador primogen would be in when we got there.

Remy herself was a doll, her hair immaculate hair and dress flawless even if she was vastly overdressed as a chauffeur. I watched as Remy slid under the steering wheel on the driver side, taking a moment to arrange her dress before shutting the door. The motor was a faint purr as it started, and eased into motion with a gentleness born of years of practice.

I watched the ghoul, noting her lack of jewelry as we drove. I didn't want to go and play around with all the controls to look like a complete novice, which Remy was bound to report. I wanted to portray that I was somewhat competent, so I sat back and enjoyed the ride while I fingered the upholstery. Remy was a good driver, never jerking the car once even when we pulled into a large home in Beverly Hills and right up to the front door.

Remy then exited the car, coming around and opening my door for me with quick steps. Stepping out, I took in the two story home and it's over the top elegance. It was obvious Michelle took pride in her place, as every part of it was carefully tended as if it were a work of art. Every shrub was sculpted, with nary a leaf out of place, and even the fountain featured a light show along with its shooting rods of water into the top basin, causing water to cascade into each subsequent basin until it returned to the pool at the bottom.

Remy shuffled past me, one hand lifting her skirt while she hurried to open the door, not releasing the skirt until she stood with the door open. I breezed past her, noting Michelle's home contained a myriad of paintings, sculptures and posters for movies. Each piece was in pristine condition, with a small plaque below it denoting a name, it's artist, or in the cases of the movie posters, how much it had grossed in theaters.

I had to believe it was all tied to Michelle somehow, but stepping into what I thought might be the Great room turned out to be a hall of even rarer art, much of it hundreds of years old going by the dedication tags. At the end of the hallway was a set of heavy wooden doors, which Remy opened. Inside was Michelle Riviere, standing in front a painting as if she were appraising it.

I only briefly wondered if she were enraptured by the painting before she stepped back and turned to me. She was dressed in a purple sequined dress with only one strap that fitted every curve of her body, and the way it shown in the soft candlelight made me wonder what the sequins were made of. Michelle ghosted forward, her dress somehow not seeming to move even as she got closer.

"Welcome to my home, Mademoiselle Flores," she said in a thick French accent while smiling to show pearly white teeth.

"It's a pleasure," I told her, embracing the elder Toreador as she ghosted into my arms. She held me for a moment, before releasing me and stepping back.

"Would you care for a drink?" she asked me. Reminded of my hunger, it took a force of will to not rip into Michelle's throat then and there. Instead I nodded, and Michelle turned to Remy and spoke, "Apportez-moi un gros pichet de sang et un des gobblets en cristal, Remy. Je vais nourrir Mlle Flores de moi-meme."

"Oui, madame," she said, then turned and walked away leaving me to wonder what had been said. I knew my name had been mentioned, but it could only be about bringing me a glass as well. It cold also be about poisoning me, so I decided to play it safe with whatever she brought me.

"Remy will return in a moment," she told me. "She will bring us some blood to drink."

"I guess the keeping of kine around for drinking really has faded with time," I told her, thinking back to when we first met at the council meeting.

"Oui," she said, nodding her head slightly. "Well-to-do kindred used to have large estates, often belonging to a man they ghouled as a front for their activities, where they would be kept. These ghouls would use their status to imprison criminals, the insane, or vagrants that they would keep for kindred to feed from."

"What about the masquerade?" I asked her, wondering how they kept the prisoners from speaking about what had happened.

"The prisoners would never be freed," she told me. "Often, they would be put to death in public executions for their crimes if they tried to tell of the kindred feeding from them."

"What happened to the ghouls?" I asked her, wondering how they kept the secret of their kindred benefactor and passed on the land and title.

"Many would be...retired," she said, pausing to choose that last word with a frown. "The masquerade had to be maintained. Their children were raised to be successors, and often the lands and titles would pass to them at their father's death, or when they convinced their master to allow them to secede their father early."

"It really was the dark ages, huh?" I asked her and she nodded A question hit me, and I decided to ask it while I could. "Do ghouls actually have the ability to have children? Or do you have to breed them before they get blood?"

"They can get pregnant as easily as any kine," she said, and I wondered what that would be like for the kid. "Remy had a daughter once, before I was forced to flee my home in Paris. I had used Remy as bait for an English artist I wished to sire, and she became pregnant."

"What happened to the child?" I asked her, and Michelle frowned.

"She was supposed to be under the care of my childe," she said with a sigh, "I dared not leave with more than Remy as we trekked across the countryside, for fear the German Wehrmacht would find us even at night. She was supposed to travel with him as his bride by bicycle, but he left her in the village of Oradour-sur-Glane while he fled to Spain on foot after being cornered by the German military."

"What happened?" I asked, the name not meaning anything to me.

"The Germans blocked off the entire town," she told me, and I suddenly wished I hadn't asked. "They locked the women in the church and burned it down around them. Only one woman survived, a Marguerite Rouffanche. I met her some years later, and asked of Remy's daughter, only to find out that she was among the dead."

"What happened to your childe?" I asked her, and she shook her head.

"The fool continues to be of some use to me, and I tolerate his presence though Remy would rather torture him to his final death," she told me. "Of late, though, I find fewer reasons to stay her hand."

"That has to be rough for her," I said, feeling sorry for the elder ghoul.

"She used to beg me to allow her to finish Felix," she said, her voice sad. "One day, I will allow her to have her revenge."

"Felix?" I said, the name sounding familiar. "Felix Barker? Velvet Velour's sire?"

"Oui," she said, sounding somewhat surprised. "You know of him?"

"Vaguely," I said, thinking I had just about surmised everything I knew of the slimy bastard. "I know he likes beautiful women, but would rather ruin their lives by turning them against their will and abandoning them later."

"That is his style," she told me, as Remy returned with the tray. I could smell the blood coming down the hall, but I only saw one cup with the pitcher of blood she had.

"Only one?" I asked her and she nodded as Remy filled it and handed it Michelle, who drank it eagerly. Remy then turned and left us, leaving the blood behind.

"You will be fed," she said, as she refilled the crystal cup from the pitcher. I wondered briefly if it were some kind of 'the host drinks first to prove its not poisoned' thing when Michelle drank again. "I must fill myself for what is to come."

"And what is to come?" I asked her, as she sat the goblet down.

"You are Methuselah, are you not?" Michelle asked, and I stood there, wondering how she knew my secret, then decided VV had told her. "You may quench your thirst from me."

"You're trusting," I said blandly, wondering why Eloise would hate the prospect so and Michelle offered it freely.

"I was hoping it would create trust between us," she said, moving her hair from her neck as if she were offering it to me. It was hard to think with my beast practically screaming in my ear, but I held back. "You may drink as deep from me as you wish, that is why I had Remy bring me so much blood to drink."

"Alright," I said, moving forward, eying the bare skin of her neck. I took the exquisitely dressed woman in my arms, cradling her as I nuzzled under her ear. Michelle leaned her head out of the way, giving me better access as I slid my fangs deep into Michelle's skin.

Michelle moaned, vibrating my fangs as I lapped at her blood. I drank her deep, satisfying my hunger with her blood and sending a pleasurable feeling throughout my body. When I finally felt her blood thin, I pulled my fangs from her neck and stepped back, leaving Michelle looking somewhat spooked as she began to vibrate.

Michelle turned and walked to the serving tray, her steps lacking the grace she had formally showed. She gripped the glass with her hand, raised the pitcher, and spilled some of the blood as she tried to pour herself a drink. With a snarl, she through the glass against a wall then used both hands to raise the pitcher to her lips, chugging it down with reckless abandon. When she set it down after draining the pitcher, she seemed to visibly relax.

"I'm sorry if I took too much," I told her, as she turned to face me again.

"It is something I accounted for," she told me, a faint smile appearing on her face. "I trust I was to your tastes?"

"It's never bad," I told her, making a small joke.

"Now that we are both sated," she said, taking a seat in an overstuffed straight-back armchair, "We can move on to more important matters."

"The removal of Lacroix?" I said, taking a seat on the sofa. "How would that work?"

"The primogen council can remove him," she told me, crossing her legs and settling herself in. "We would need a majority vote to achieve it, and as such, that is currently unlikely. Strauss has issues with Lacroix, but is not likely to oppose him without good reason. Mueller, Scott and Therese are so loyal to Lacroix it would make a Democrat sick, and Dusty and Gary would want something to replace Lacroix. That is four to our three."

"Therese Voerman replaced Grout?" I asked her, wanting to clarify that information.

"We are going to ask her at our next meeting," she told me. "We need a Malkavian primogen, and she is one of the few who is not a liability. I trust she'll accept as she seems so wont to get in the prince's good graces."

"So, Lacroix gets another puppet on the council, making it that much harder to overthrow him," I said, piecing it together.

"All we need is to get you your allotted five clan members, and we can at least add your voice to the council," she said, trying to offer me hope.

"I'm hoping the sarcophagus is where I think it is," I told her, making her raise her eyebrows at that news. "If it is, and I can confirm it's there, I'll have the right to make a childe this weekend."

"That would be one," she said, smiling at the good news. "How can we gain the four others?"

"I would have to feel Lacroix out, but I'm hoping that if I seem to accept the Camarilla and do his dirty work, I might be able to earn the right for the other four like I'm doing now,"

"That might work," she said, leaning back in her chair. "So, getting one up on Lacroix is going to be your plan. What's the plan for when we do get you on the council? Strauss is unlikely to go against Lacroix without reason, and we'll need him for the swing vote."

"Strauss is about to be removed from Los Angeles," I told her, getting a gasp of surprise from her. "He's violated his clan's rules, and is about to be recalled."

"That...that does change things," she said. "How sure are you of his recall?"

"Fairly sure," I told her, thinking of Eloise's advice on the inner workings of the Tremere. "He's done something that his clan doesn't tolerate; offer to teach an outsider the secrets of blood magic."

"Interesting," she said, staring into my eyes. "I assume you were smart enough to get something for terminating Strauss's position as primogen?"

"A willing blood doll in his replacement," I said, getting a smile from Michelle. "Eloise doesn't seem to have the knack for politics, yet, but I have to figure she'll be somewhat easier to get along with than Strauss, especially if it seems she can get out from being my blood doll."

"You are going to do well in this life," Michelle breathed as she nodded her head approvingly.

"So what about Gary and Dusty?" I asked her and she shook her head.

"The sewer rat is easy to bribe with gossip," she said, shivering at the mention of Gary as if he were that loathsome, and probably was to a Toreador. "Dusty only wants what most hunters want; a proper hunt."

"How very 'dangerous game' of him," I muttered, thinking of the old short story where a hunter hunted humans for sport. "I assume he prefers to hunt kindred?"

"Ghouls, actually," she said. "There's no trophy if you kill a kindred."

"Hmm," I said, having a wicked thought. "What if we offered the ghoul after his vote? Give me a chance to train her in using her powers?"

"You would sacrifice a ghoul to get rid of Lacroix?" she asked, frowning at me.

"I wouldn't sacrifice much if the ghoul in question is actually a hunter," I told her.

"Where would you find a hunter to ghoul, though?" she asked me, and I chuckled. "Or would you send a hunter to kill him?

"I found her in Chinatown," I told Michelle, deepening her frown before she began to smirk. "She's already ghouled, but I'm giving her a chance to break the bond and walk away after I ghouled her to save her life."

"It is a difficult thing to walk away from," Michelle agreed. "I have yet to see a human who can resist the power of our blood without some sort of help."

"Then I shall be preparing myself for her to show back up tomorrow night," I said and Michelle nodded.

"If your ghoul is able to destroy Dusty, we might be ridding ourselves of the Gangrel vote on the council," she said, and I quirked my head to the side in thought.

"What if we got Jean Baker to replace him?" I said, and Michelle gave me a questioning look. "She's a Gangrel deputy for the sheriff. Though she's been around as a kindred for fifty years, she seems to at least be somewhat social."

"I have only met Miss Baker a few times, and always in an official capacity," she told me. "Do you think she could be somewhat controlled?"

"I'd trust her to be compassionate and care for the people of the city," I told her, getting a hmm in response as she thought about it. "Could she be bought? Hard to say. She does live a provincial life when she is used to more."

"In what way?" Michelle asked me, and I knew I was risking revealing Jean's real identity.

"She used to be a rich woman when she was alive," I said, not really lying as she had been rich. "She lost everything when she was turned, having to go underground to protect the masquerade. I can only assume she lives in some dive, driving a rusty old pickup and working to make ends meet like any blue collar person at a nine to five job. So maybe she'll enjoy it if we 'elevate' her life a bit."

"Hmm," Michelle said, inclining her head in thought. "I didn't come to California until the late 80's, so I doubt I'd know her while she was alive. But, in undeath, she might be worth knowing now, and you say this as if you know her. Do you?"

"I'm friendly with her," I told Michelle, again not really lying. "So, if my ghoul can kill Dusty, we can replace him with Jean Baker, adding another vote to ours in future ordeals. That gives us control of the primogen council. What do we do with it? I know you've been working to overthrow Lacroix, but what's the endgame?"

"Freedom from oppression has always been my endgame," she told me. "As with the trial of Jose Garcia, many kindred have fallen victim to the sword of Lacroix's sheriff, almost all had some sort of political difference with Lacroix. Whom rules the city is of little concern, but I will not lie when I say I wish it could be me."

"Wish it could be you?" I said, parroting her words back to her. "You think someone else has a shot of overtaking the crown of the city?"

"Isaac Abrams has his eye on a formal barony for the entire city," Michelle said, reinforcing an idea that Isaac might try to take complete control if he could. "Nines Rodriguez would also love to take full control of the city for his Anarchs, removing all figures of authority for the city and allowing the city to fall into chaos. Such was the way it was before Lacroix and the other Ventrue showed up and instituted the Camarilla."

"I assume Therese Voerman would also like to claim the throne for herself," I added, making Michelle nod in approval. "I don't see many kindred rallying behind her, so she can keep dreaming."

"And what of you?" she asked, stunning me. "Do you have any designs to rule the city? There are few who might stand against you with the power of your blood, and your abilities politically enable you to rally the city behind you."

I laughed, my body wracked with laughter as her words hit me. Me? In charge of the city? Was she nuts?

"I see you find the humor in my remark," she said, admonishing me as I laughed.

"I'm the last one who has any plans on the city," I told her, stifling my laughter as best I could. "I just want to be left alone, for the most part."

"So you'd pass on ruling the city to be left in peace?" she asked, and I nodded. "Hmm, that would leave me with the greatest voice in the city, with the most support. Since I know you are my greatest rival, it behooves me to keep you as my greatest friend, meaning I need to keep you happy. If I am able to wrangle the title of prince out of the council, I'd be willing to give you great leeway in your personal dealings, as long as you keep the masquerade."

"I have no problem keeping the masquerade," I told her, getting a smirk from her. "You do know, my own children will be more powerful than you, given time."

"Yes," she said simply, meeting my eye. "But that is in say, a hundred years, and you have to choose your childer carefully or they will not survive to then."

"True," I said, knowing she was right. "But they will have me guiding them, protecting and nurturing their skills until they can stand on their own."

"Which in turn makes you even more powerful," she added, flooring me. I didn't realize just how much Lucian and I upset the apple cart. "The worst that could ever happen to you is if Lacroix manages to call a blood hunt on you, turning the entire city against you. So don't upset Lacroix if you don't have to."

"I plan not to," I told her in all sincerity. "But I'll leave piles of ash in my wake if he tries."

"Of that, I am certain," Michelle told me, rising to her feet. "Such are the policies of those that survive. What is the saying? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? The problem is telling the two apart."

"In that case," I said, rising from the couch I was seated on, "Expect me back sometime," I said, then turned my gaze to the shadow at my feet and stepped back to the Great Room in my mansion, where the group 'N Sync sang 'Bye Bye Bye' on the radio.

'How fitting,' I thought as I moved down the hallway to the garage. I didn't see or hear my ghouls, so I went out to my Ninja, and fired it up, heading downtown to Confession.

Traffic was light on my way downtown, allowing me to keep my Ninja near eighty as I rolled along. Finding Confession was easy, the remodeled church having only a few cars parked outside of it. Even on a Tuesday I expected it to be a little more crowded than the measly handful I saw.

'Must be the music,' I decided, hearing the Disco coming from inside. It was only when I heard opened the door and could get a better earful of the mix that I recognized Disco Duck. The Toreadors must have really prohibited Venus from getting anything better that she was forced to play such secondhand music.

Inside, there weren't but maybe six people in the entire place, two of those behind the bar with one in a neck brace. The injured barman's accomplice was a short, slender woman with highly defined cheekbones in a vest top that had a rather large boob window for the woman's clearly enhanced breasts. She gave me a smile as I came in, and I headed for her, hoping she was Venus as I continued to check her out from behind my sunglasses. I could see the black satin hot pants she wore over dark fishnet stockings, as I sat behind to the bar, giving her a smile of my own.

"Looking for Venus Dare," I told her, and I saw fear flash behind her eyes. "Fat Larry sent me to play messenger."

"Oh," she said, drawing the word as her smile became real and deepened on her face. "So you're the Cleopatra Jones he was going to send over?" she said in somewhat softened British accent as she leaned in closer as the songs changed to one with a higher pitch, making hearing difficult. "I've been waiting for someone like you to come in here."

"Well, here I am," I told her, leaning in close myself. I didn't have trouble hearing her as my hearing was excellent, but it didn't hurt to keep the masquerade.

"I've got this situation that's gotten a little out of hand and I need someone to inform some people that they won't be getting paid this month," she told me, sidestepping saying anything really important. My brain could come up with some ideas though, and it sounded like the Venus had some bad troubles.

"You've got me," I told her, wanting her to get to the short of it so I could get things started tonight.

"Well," she said, then snapped her head around to see if anyone was close enough to maybe hear our conversations then continued on. "The parking lot next to the Empire Hotel. There's a couple of guys, Russian accents, bit thick, leaned up against an SUV. I need you to tell them Venus doesn't have their money. That's it."

"That's it," I said, wondering why she'd go to Larry with such an easy task, then she looked at the other barman. Maybe she had sent the guy last time and he was still recovering? If that were the case, why didn't she take the money from any of the Ventrue kindred that came along? I'd heard from a friend that Russian loan sharks would give you any money you asked for, but they'd make damn sure you paid it back, one way or another, whether you liked it or not. That's why I bunked with Samantha after Simeon killed my family. I didn't like their terms.

"That's it," she said, looking back at me, pleading for me to help her out.

"What's in it for me?" I asked, wondering if she had money problems. Couldn't be much, but Larry was still a guy, and maybe Venus was offering him something besides cash. Guys could be such pigs.

"Drinks on the house for a week," she said, and I chuckled softly as I looked at the bar. Even if I weren't Methuselah now, I doubt she could handle being my blood doll for a week. Constance couldn't handle it for more than a few nights. Of course, I did drain her nearly dry twice.

"I don't drink," I told her, forcing my face back to deadpan serious before I looked at her. I could see the fear again, but I doubted it was about me this time.

"You want cash?" she asked, and I nodded, knowing that any kind of merc or muscle for hire would likely want cash as well, unless they found her hot, but since Venus wasn't offering, I wasn't asking. "Whatever, I can do that. Question is: are you worth it?"

"More than you realize," I told her, making her jaw drop a bit. "I'll do it."

"I'd expected you'd bite," she told me, trying to be playful but falling a bit flat to me. Must be the worry I could hear in her voice. "Just remember, Empire Hotel, tell them I'm broke. You can run, right?" she asked, then closed her eyes and bowed her head for a moment before looking at me again. "Never mind, just don't go starting any street fights, alright? These guys are connected. Anyhow, a lot of people have yet to confess to the beat priestess. Later, darling," she said, moving down the bar to talk to a young couple with more piercings in their nose than I had in my ears.

I slid off the bar, letting Venus do her thing as I headed outside. All my running around downtown LA left me with an idea of where the Empire Hotel was, so I headed there on my Ninja. I found two men in all black clothing leaned against a large SUV, just like Venus told me I'd find them.

As I parked, I watched a third man walk up to the pair, again dressed in all black with dark coats. My ears could hear the Russian the three were speaking, so I figured I had the right guys as I walked up. Their talking stopped when they noticed me, arms crossing their chests as they all tried to stand tall and stiff and play macho, but I wasn't afraid.

"Confession bitch send you?" one of the men asked, and I nodded my head.

"She did," I told them, and they all glared at me as if they were expecting something.

"Money? Where is money?" he asked, the other two fanning out a bit to circle me.

If I were afraid, I might've run then but I glared at the man as I stood resolute. "She told me to tell you she doesn't have it."

"No money?" he asked, and I heard the rustle of cloth as the other two shuffled their arms.

"There's no reason to get upset," I told them. "I'm just a messenger. I'm sure your boss has other options for acquiring this months payment."

"Da," he said, face easing a bit before giving me a dark smile. "I see her next month."

"Pleasure doing business with you," I said, easing back from the Russian men.

They didn't follow, so I quickly got back on my Ninja and booked it before they changed their minds. I wondered how I might morph this into more so I could win that bet, but unless something happened, I was going to fall short. I might make friends with her, but so far, that was it.

Going inside Confession, I didn't find Venus when I got there, the bar manned only by the guy in a neck brace. I had to believe he was the guy Venus sent last time, and unlike me, hadn't fared well at all. I didn't even take a seat, just walked up to him and asked for Venus.

"She's in her office," he said, pointing upstairs to the far end of the remodeled church. "Take the door there," he said, pointing to a door beside the bar, then lifted it up to a catwalk where lights hung. "Take the catwalk over."

"Thanks," I said, quickly making my way over, then up, quickly scrambling across the catwalk to her office. Russian loan sharks were notorious for making their customers do dirty stuff to pay off their loans. Judy, an acquaintance of mine in college, said her cousin ended up working as an escort on several gigs when she missed her payments. If I could get there at the right time, I might get Venus to agree to be my ghoul to escape it.

Looking back as I got to the door, I saw no one watching so I misted through the door as a shadow, pooling myself on the room's dark ceiling as Venus sat at her desk, phone to her ear. I didn't hear what was being said, but it seemed as if the Russians were already calling, making me glad I rushed here. A glance around the room revealed it was more than an office. A cot sat in the corner, it's ruffled cover and pillow telling me she slept here while the clothes on a makeshift shelf nearby told me she probably no longer had an apartment as she tried to make the club work.

"Yes, Boris," she said, sounding really depressed. "I'll get dressed and be right over," she continued, but there was no enthusiasm in her words. She hung up the phone, so slowly it might be said she wanted it to produce a sound that meant the Russians had changed their mind. After setting it back in its cradle, she leaned forward and put her head on the desk, sobs causing her back to heave as she cried over what was to come.

I watched as she finally forced herself to her feet, going to where the clothes were hung. I let myself drift down, forming in front of the door. Venus didn't pay me any notice as she pulled a leather outfit covered in shiny chains and spikes from her closet, crying even as she pulled it out. Once I had reformed, I put my hand on hers, pushing her hand back forward to set the hanger back on the wire.

Venus looked at me, tears in her eyes as I pulled her hand back out empty. "Not like that," I told her.

"It's how I pay Boris when I can't make the payment," she told me, her voice a whisper. I wrapped my arms around her, steering her for the bed where I sat her down so she could cry on my shoulder.

Cry she did, letting out the pain and frustration my fellow kindred had inflicted on her. I could only wonder at the moment she took out the loan from the Russians, and how long that had hung over her head. It was several minutes before the woman's crying subsided, and picked at her vest as if realizing she hadn't changed clothes yet and looked at the leather outfit hanging in her closet.

"How did it start?" I asked her, hoping to create a little intimacy between us.

"Well," she said, wiping a tear from her eye, "To start this club I had to take out a significant loan from that bastard. If I don't make the monthly, with interest, I have to fuck that fat misogynistic old man instead."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since late last year," she said, looking forlornly at the suit. "At first, I'd just show up in something revealing, but he made me buy that outfit after my third straight month of missing payments."

"I'm sorry," I told her, holding her close. "Why keep at it? Why not just sell and move on?"

"I won't quit!" she said resolutely, shaking me off as she stood up and crossed her arms. "I won't stop until I make this work. It's my proof to my father that I'm capable of building my own club. He thinks I can't do it, well, almost two years in, and I still own it. Lock, stock and bar."

"That's what's important to you, isn't it?" I asked, and she nodded, not even looking at me as she stood with her head hung. "How far are you willing to go to get rid of Boris?"

"Boris is high up in the Russian mafia," she said, her shoulders quivering with a quiet sob. "If I could afford to have him offed, I would. But I don't have anything left."

"You have everything, to the right person," I told her, causing her to turn around and face me. "I'll get rid of Boris for you, get you out from underneath his thumb, but it will cost you."

"What would you want?" she said, her eyes full of tears. "I refuse to part with the club. I've been offered millions for it, but I won't part with it. My father will just call me a failure."

"I'm not interested in your club," I told her, and she looked at me curiously. "Oh, I'm sure it will be a success again, I have no doubt about that. It's you I want. If I go take care of Boris, I want you."

Venus looked alarmed, backing up a step. "And, uh," she said, chuckling as she continued to back up to the door as if I were about to kidnap her. "What, exactly, do you want with me?"

"I want a share of the profits in your club," I told her, and she steeled herself. "Note, I said profit. No profit, no payment. Think of me as a silent partner with a contract you can never break."

"A silent partner?" she said, mulling over the idea. "And a share of only the profits? That might work. Would you want this written in a contract? Or are you like Boris and will enforce it by beating me and forcing me to fuck for you if I don't make a penny?"

"I write my contracts in blood," I told her, not wanting to tell her about ghouling just yet. "As long as you're trying to turn a profit, you won't ever be on my bad side. I can even help you out with staff, sending over some 'friends' to help as bouncers. So, in or out?"

"There's always a catch," she said, crossing her arms. "You won't keep me around forever if I don't turn a profit."

"As the club will never be mine, what do I care?" I said, trying to keep my face passive. "I won't help you with finances, that's a different deal for later, but if you go under, I reserve the right to make you work in another business."

"More like brothel," she said sourly, and I shook my head.

"I'm not a part of anything illegal," I told her. "Worst you might drop to is dancer, but I imagine I'll find a spot for you running a motel or restaurant first. Again, profits are the name of the game."

"Nothing is illegal?" she said, sounding skeptical.

"I do employ a drug dealer, but he's mostly muscle," I told her, and she raised an eyebrow. "He uses his drugs on girls with a habit to get in their panties. He's been hanging out over at Four-Play, and enjoys being the connection there. I could always have him come over here and be your bouncer."

"I've already run out the thugs and their drugs," she told me, smirking at me. "Drugs and clubs go hand in hand, but I run a clean club. I won't allow drugs to be sold."

"Your choice, and I'll make sure Brian honors it," I told her. "So do we have a deal or not? The night's wasting away on me."

"You go to the top floor of Empire Hotel, kill Boris, and keep the mafia out of my till, and I'll let you in for a share of the profits," she said, sealing the deal between us.

"Good," I said, rising from her cot. "That just means I have a man to kill."

"You don't sound as if that will be difficult," she said, as I paused at the door, looking at it's double locks that were still engaged.

"Well, I was the one that blew up a warehouse in Santa Monica, slaughtered a massage parlor full of Tong in Chinatown, and survived the slaughter of a parking garage near downtown," I told her, listing everything I had done that would have made the news for sure. She must have heard of some it by the way her mouth dropped, and she looked at me as if I had a third eye in my forehead. "Wiping out the mafia is a small thing," I told her as she watched me undo the locks to her door.

"Why did you relock it?" she said, puzzled.

"I never un-locked it," I told her, and stepped out into the disco music to leave her wondering how I got into a locked room with no windows.

I went outside, going across the catwalk and down the stairs like a normal person. I didn't need to cause a scene in the club, and hopped on my bike and returned to the Empire Hotel. The last time I had set foot here, I had killed Jezebel Locke, now I was here to destroy the Mafia. I needed to make sure Boris was home before I killed them all though. If not, he'd get reinforcements and make life difficult for me and Venus.

Taking the elevator to the top floor, I had a momentary idea that like the Tong massage parlor, I was liable to take bullets if they were carrying automatics. Once I was out in the lobby for the top floor, I shrugged out of my coat and tucked it in a corner, leaving the gun and sword with it. I could make a sword if I needed it, but I had a hunch guns would be in large supply when I made my move.

Going through the doors, I found men standing around in groups, talking with each other in Russian. Most gave me a disapproving look when they noticed me, with a few pointing at me and saying something I didn't understand. Problem was, they had the look of hired muscle about them.

I began to count, seeing almost two dozen men total as I searched for Boris. By the time I turned a corner of the hallway, I had reached thirty-three, finding the thirty fourth man guarding a door. Figuring I had the right door, I walked up to the man.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked in a gruff voice with a thick Russian accent.

"I have to tell your boss something," I told him, using my presence to instill fear in the man. "Step aside."

"I do not think so," he said crossing his arms. I studied his face, seeing the grim set of his jaw and figured he wouldn't budge easy.

"It's important," I told him, crossing my own arms. "He'll be quite upset if he doesn't hear it and blame you."

"Very well," he said, turning around and opening a door. "Follow me."

I followed him into an office that had a door of to one side, but behind the desk in a fancy suit minus its coat, sat Boris, a large caliber gun under his left armpit. The man let off a string of Russian to the man who let me in, getting another string of Russian back, then he turned to me.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded to know.

"A friend of Venus Dare," I told him, and he shot out of the seat behind his desk to come get in my face.

"So you are girlfriend, eh?" he said, leering at me. "You sit in house I pay for, eat chocolate I pay for, and talk about how you are going to cheat club I pay for from me? You are spoiled girl too!"

"Not her girlfriend," I told him, and he looked at the guard. "I'm the hitman."

Boris snatched for his gun, and I reacted. Using my left hand, I blocked him from lining his gun on me, then brought my other up to hit his nerve point. The idea was to make him drop the gun and do it in such a way he couldn't hold anything else for the rest of the day, at least not with that hand. The move wasn't designed to be performed by a kindred with potence.

The moment my hand connected with his arm, I broke his radial and ulna bones and folded his arm down its own length to point the gun back at his own chest. His finger twitched on the trigger, as he began to scream from the pain, and his gun fired into his chest. Knowing the guard was likely reaching for his piece, I did a reverse spin kick as I released Boris, just as the guard brought out a gun of his own. My boot caught the guy in the chest, my potence fueled leg sending him flying across the room and into the wall, literally.

I took a moment to get the gun from Boris, stepping back a few steps before I put one last shot into his brain to make sure he never got back up. The guard started to crawl out of the hole in the wall he was sitting in, and I lined up the gun and put a shot into the guard's head causing him to fall out of the wall to lay sprawled on the carpet. I didn't have time to do anything before the thirty-three other guys from outside burst through the door.

I turned Boris's gun on them, firing into the knot of men. They predictably fled in all directions, the ones in front trying to turn and run for cover, the ones in back keeping them from going anywhere. The confusion kept them from returning fire effectively, even as I ran out of bullets. Dropping the gun, I activated my celerity and pulled a pair a Japanese sai for the close in work I was about to do.

Stepping in, I buried the sai in the closest man, using him as a shield as the men in the back started to fire. I then threw him bodily towards the men in the back, before using the shadows to jump behind them. My appearing behind the men seemed to confuse them, as I wrapped my arms around one man, plunging the sai into the man's heart and grabbed for his gun. The man let the gun slip free, and I pulled the trigger, letting loose a spray of bullets from the automatic pistol.

Confusion abounded as I fought the goons in close quarters combat. Anyone who raised a gun to me I used his nearest compatriot as a shield, then buried the sai in said person's heart after dumping a fresh corpse on the ground. Soon, I was the only one left standing amid a group of corpses, so I began counting the bodies and came up with everyone.

Letting go of my sai to dissolve back into shadow, I went back over to Boris. Pulling out my phone, I took a photo of what was left of the man and his head, then put my phone away. Checking the area for any sign that I'd been there specifically, besides the corpses, I picked up the gun I had taken from Boris and dropped it in a pool of blood, what few law shows I had seen growing up telling me the blood would hide my fingerprints. The rest of my prints would be easily lost in the cacophony that would be found in any hotel.

Returning to the lobby, I retrieved my duster, putting my own Glock back in its holster. I hadn't even gotten it settled on my shoulders when a ding from the elevator told me someone was coming. I misted myself into the shadows, hiding behind the planter to watch two uniformed men with guns come out. I stayed hidden, waiting until the pair disappeared down the hall before I moved out of the shadows and into the elevator.

I rode it down, coming out in the main lobby to see cops pouring in through the lobby. They pushed past me, filling the elevator before the doors closed them in. I pushed past the crowd in the filling lobby, not worried like most were about the massive shootout that had happened on the top floor and if more shots were coming. Once I got outside, I saw more cops filling the street, leaving their cars parked wherever they could find space, regardless of legality.

I hopped on my Ninja, unnoticed in the confusion and started it. A few people looked at me as my Ninja purred to life, but lost interest fast as they pushed for the hotel. I turned away from the turmoil, looping back around to Confession. Nothing had changed, so I went in and was thankful that they were no longer playing disco, but some electronica from the 80's I was sure my parents hated.

Looking around, I found Venus setting someone's drink order on the counter, the lady in question wearing a leather jacket over a fishnet top and was showing off more cleavage with her well endowed breasts than I had in my bra. Venus noticed me as she turned away, not listening to the lady babble on about finding Kent, who had went missing.

"There you are," she said, sounding upbeat as she leaned over the bar as the song switched to something heavily synthesized with an overly aggressive bass. Unfortunately, it wasn't mixed well, and I almost wished they'd just play a local radio station, instead. "Finished yet?"

"Yes," I told her back.

"I can't hear you!" she shouted as the music somehow increased in volume. It was only my undead hearing that allowed me to her now. "Let's talk in my office!"

I nodded my approval, not wanting to show the bloody pictures I had in public like this in case someone was looking. I followed Venus to the door and up to the catwalk, enjoying the shadow filled area. Once we were in her office, Venus headed straight for her chair while I stayed by the door, locking it while Venus had her back turned.

"Boris?" she said, sitting in her chair.

"Dead," I said, showing her the picture of the Russian mobster.

"Guess we're partners then," she said, giving me a faint smile as I slipped my phone back in my jacket pocket. "You got the contract for me? Or was that figurative and you intend to use force on me?"

"As I said, I write my contracts in blood," I told her, removing my duster and draping it over a chair at her desk. I then began to roll up my sleeve, getting a curious stare from Venus.

"And what do you mean by that?" she asked me, as I settled the sleeve on my arm, bare wrist exposed.

"I'm a vampire," I told her, getting a scoff in return. "Got a mirror?" I said, getting closer, then reached behind for my Glock and extended it to her. "Here, shoot me. It might hurt, but it won't kill me."

Venus shrank back from the proffered gun, as if it might bight. "Vampires are real?" she said, her voice getting high pitched as she shrank away from me.

"As are werewolves, ghosts and a whole host of other supernatural creatures," I told her. "We hide behind the masquerade, swearing all who know about us to complete secrecy and killing those who violate that order or figure it out."

"You're going to make me into one of you?" she asked, her voice still small.

"You're going to become my ghoul," I told her, and got a disdainful look from her. "It's not like Renfield from Dracula. You don't eat bugs, but you do stop aging for as long as you drink my blood. One bad thing is you have to do whatever I say, losing your will to the feeling of love you'll have for me."

"So what happens to me, specifically?" she asked, as I came around her desk to face her with nothing between us.

"You run the club, giving me a share of the profits you generate," I told her, making her smile a bit. "There's a group of us, called the Toreador, who've been running away all the talent from your club over a bet. Now that I've won, the talent will play here again, and you can grow as much as you want."

"Oh goody," she said in a slow draw. "I assume these Toreadors are the ones who've nearly run me into the ground?"

"Yes," I said, and she frowned. "Time to take your dose."

Venus stood, looking nervous as I bit my wrist to draw blood. She looked at it, mildly disgusted before looking at me. "Do I get to have a personal life?"

"My only orders are to uphold the masquerade, which means you keep vampire secrets secret, and run the club," I told her. "What you do with your own money and personal time is your concern. I won't micromanage your life because I got too much going on in mine."

"Alright then," she said, taking my wrist on sucking on my blood. I knew she was drinking it because I could feel my blood flow out my wrist. When she pulled away, her face awash in ecstasy, I rolled my sleeve down while she fumbled her way backwards into her chair.

It took a few moments for her to regain her composure, and I went around and put my duster back on, then slipped my Glock back in its holster. When Venus's eyes refocused, she smiled at me.

"That does have a kick," she said, then her smile softened. "Well, I hate to suck and run, but I do have a club to run. How long before those bloody Toreadors let the talent back?"

"As soon as I make a phone call," I told her.

"Well, you better make that phone call," she said, heading for the door. "Just send me anyone you think can help, I'll put them to work where I can. This place has been in the red so long, I doubt I could even pay them."

"Don't worry about paying anyone I send," I told her, then remembered something Sammie told me once about law. "At least, not on paper. They'll be ghouls, like you, and you might speak with them in private to find out more about what to expect."

"You never did tell me your name," she said, unlocking the door.

"Eliza Flores," I told her, and her one of her eyebrows went up.

"I read that name in the paper once," she said, turning back to look at me. "Apparently she went missing."

"And was later found dead in a barrel," I continued for her. "Missing, yes, but it wasn't me in the barrel. My best friend Samantha tried to tell people, but the people who made me disappear faked my death so well that no one believed her."

"If you didn't tell her you're still alive..." she said, giving me a stern look.

"Did that days ago," I told her, putting up my hands. "Maybe I'll look her up in a bit and take her out for dinner."

"Do you eat as a vampire?" she said, giving me a smirk that insinuated plenty.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "Blood is all I want, and we use the term kindred to describe us instead of vampire. I want you to use it as well, in case anyone overhears you. You hear anyone talking about kindred, you know they're talking about us."

"Will do," she said, then ghosted out the door in a whisper of techno.

I pulled out my phone, dialing Scourge Walsh. It didn't ring once before it was answered. "Walsh, it's Eliza Flores."

"Yes, Miss Flores," he said, sounding a little distracted as paper shuffled across his desk.

"I've ghouled Venus Dare," I told him, and he made a sound of surprise.

"Might I ask about the circumstances of her ghouling?" he asked me, probably making sure I didn't use my powers to force her into it.

"She agreed to be under a blood contract in exchange for my terminating a Boris, head of the local Russian Mafia," I told him. "She's definitely stuck on her club, refused any idea of losing control or ownership. So I made my offer of control directly on her. I carried out Boris's assassination, and she drank my blood willingly after finding out I was kindred."

"Hmm," he said, then chuckled. "Well, I know a lot of people who are going to be upset that the bet is settled, but I'll let the Toreadors know it is so the two of you can start the profits flowing again."

"Thank you," I told him.

"Stop by my office when you can, and I'll give you a list of people who wagered with boons," he continued. "Do you want me to put the money in your account?"

"Please," I said, leaning against the wall.

"It's a sizeable amount, but you do have enough to pay off your mansion, now," he said, papers continuing to shuffle. "I'll give you a full report when you stop by my office."

"I'll see you soon," I said, and he hung up on me. Busy man, I thought, putting my phone away. Guess it was time to become a truly rich woman.

I started to walk back to my bike, thinking about the money. An economics class I had taken once sprung to mind, and I mulled over paying off the mansion now, or investing a larger portion and continuing to make payments and hoping that my return was greater than the interest. If that happened, I could use the returns on the money I invested to pay for the mansion, and if I invested any excess returns as well, could finance my life fairly well.

As I walked down the stairs, I made up my mind that I needed to talk to an investment broker after meeting Walsh. I had millions and needed to make my money work for me, not laze around in an account and collect dust. I might be a vampire staring eternity in the face, but money was what greased the wheels of mortals.

'Well, at least I have money to start with and don't have to wait a hundred years first,' I thought as I hit the dance floor. 'Life is good.'


	42. Chapter 42 - Unexpected Complication

Author's Note: Sorry for such a short chapter after a long delay, I've had family issues. I also need to address something at this time with a guest reviewer, so here goes.

Dear guest reviewer,

I'm sorry that you feel the antagonist is overpowered. I call it the 'Superman syndrome.' If you make the protagonist overpowered, you have to place other limiters on their powers. I'm sorry you feel as if this detracts from the plot, but the main character can't die before the end of the story. Even movies where the main character dies wait till the end to do that and not the beginning, unless your name is Quentin Tarantino. That man can get away with anything.

As for your argument that it makes no sense for her raise in generation, when does Thaumaturgy ever make sense? You are talking about one of the most powerful disciplines in existence, one that can cause anything to happen, even temporarily lowering your generation with level three Thaumaturgy in the Blood Path. With an actual antediluvian, who knows what they can or can't do, so my having him lower Eliza's generation to three is not out of the question. The reason I settled on fourth generation was thinking it through logically from Caine's perspective. If Eliza had killed Lucian/Lasombra when pressed, she'd take the title of her antediluvian and his generation. Since she allowed him to live, only not in her body, she takes a spot as a Lucian/Lasombra's childe.

As for her attitude, kindred have a thing called the Beast, a living monster within them. As kindred go through their unlife, they have to struggle with this monster within them. The only thing they have to combat it is their humanity. As I'm writing this more as a pen and paper game transcript than the PC game it was, I constantly ask myself what her gain or loss is at this moment in the story. When I wrote that moment in Chapter 36, I decided that her killing of what amounts to an innocent kine caused a brief lapse of her Beast. If it comes up again, she'll likely change her stance, but that has yet to happen in the days since. Yes, I know it was briefly mentioned in Chapter 37, but Eliza didn't latch on to what was said about Dianne/Sugar.

Furthermore, there are many more possibilities for advancing the story ark with Four-Play. This story isn't over yet, and Four-Play is a key player in the immediate future with its many residing characters. I am sorry if you feel you have been cheated out of any time you spent reading this story, and feel sorry that I'm not a better writer to give you a better story, one worthy of the New York Times Best Selling List. THough, if I were, I'd be selling it for money and you might or might not read it.

Please enjoy your free story, and yes, all snark is intended.

Have a nice day...

* * *

Chapter 42 – Unexpected Complication

October 5, 2004 = Tuesday

~Eliza Flores~

I headed straight up to Lacroix Tower, parking my Ninja out front on the street. I peaked in the front window, finding Chunk manning the security desk. Rolling my eyes, I walked through the front doors finding he was sitting to a box of donuts, one already stuffed to his face. I would have gladly walked on, calling the elevator myself but upon seeing me, Chunk put the donut back in the box and hastily wiped his hands on a napkin.

"Hey, pudding cake!" he called, and I groaned.

"Hello, Chunk," I said, giving him a wan smile. The security guard ate it up, beaming as if he won the lottery. Poor sod probably never got much of a chance to talk to a woman outside of those that were paid to, so I tolerated it.

"Lotsa crime in the area lately," he told me as I paused to talk with him. "There's now been three mass killings in town. Just had one come in over the radio. Apparently someone slaughtered three dozen men at one of them fancy hotels."

"I'm sure you'll protect me," I said, knowing the poor guy would likely piss himself to know I was the one doing all the slaughtering.

"Sure will," he said, as he hit a button for me. "Elevator should be waiting for ya."

"Thanks, Chunk," I said, walking past the security desk.

"Enjoy yourself!" he called as I walked into the elevator and rode it all the way up.

I came out on the entrance to the Camarilla headquarters, then turned and headed for Walsh's office. The door was closed when I got there, but I could hear voices coming faintly through the wall. I couldn't make anything out, but when the door opened, three people came out, two of them well armed with assault rifles and SWAT-like tactical gear and Walsh's ghoul Rochelle. Rochelle carried a duffel bag slung over one shoulder, and the two men took positions in front and behind her. They both seemed to eye me as they passed, but neither said anything as they moved briskly down the hall and down the elevator.

Entering his office, I found Walsh filing some paperwork in a tall cabinet. He frowned at seeing me, but it passed quickly. "How did you get Miss Dare to acquiesce to being your ghoul when most of the city couldn't?"

"I happened to catch her at an emotionally sensitive time," I said, taking a seat across from his desk. Walsh had yet to sit, and he seemed to tower over me. He mouthed a silent 'oh,' and I shook my head. "Not that emotionally sensitive time. Her payment to the Russian Mafia was up and she didn't have the money to pay."

"Ah," he said, settling himself into his chair. "I take it she was less than thrilled with the alternate payment plans the mafia has?"

"Absolutely thrilled," I said sarcastically, shaking my head. "I managed to convince her that I could solve her problems with the mafia permanently, freeing her of her debt, but in exchange I wanted her. When I killed Boris and his mafia goons, I returned and revealed myself as kindred, telling her she would be my new ghoul. She accepted, more out of fear I think, but I didn't use presence to influence her."

"Which means you won the bet," he said, then reached down and pulled a folder from a drawer of his desk. "The total waged amount in cash was twenty nine million dollars," he said and I whistled. That was plenty, alright, with enough to pay off my mansion with some left over after the four million I had put on the down payment. "The total boons number nineteen, and therein lies a small problem. One of those now belongs to Herr Mueller, the Ventrue primogen."

"Why should he be a problem?" I asked, not knowing of anything besides him being Ventrue for him to hate me.

"He, like most of my clan, believes heavily in the blood feud between our clans," he told me. "I think he believes too heavily in the propaganda of the Third Reich, even in death, and thinks we Ventrue as superior in every way."

"Admitting a fault?" I asked him with a smirk on my face. I so enjoyed watching the Ventrue squirm.

"Each clan, and person, has certain strengths and weaknesses," he responded with a smirk of his own. "Learning them makes it easier to manipulate individuals into doing that which you want. Personally, I'd like to see Herr Mueller taken down a peg, so I'm not above offering the weight of my office to force him into an agreement to settle your boon. As the appointed harpy of the local Camarilla, he is the one whom records such things and makes sure they are enforced."

"And would you like a boon in return if I should have to call on you to force Herr Mueller into settling his boon with me?" I asked him, feeling as if I were walking in circles. It was like paying off credit cards with credit cards. Useful in the short term, but didn't pay off anything long term.

"Yes, I would," he said, making me grimace inwardly even as I forced my face to remain passive.

"Then so be it," I told him, an idea striking me on a way for Mueller to pay his boon in a way that would barely inconvenience him but greatly help me. "I can make it easy for him to pay off, as there is something he has that I don't."

"Money?"

"As you yourself once said, Ventrue are money, treating our economy as if it were all a giant game of Monopoly. I'm just going to ask the banker for a stack of five hundred dollar bills," I told him, letting myself smile at the thought of paying off my bills and having plenty of cash to set myself up for the next millennia.

"That's one way of paying off a boon," he said with a chuckle. "I can vouch that he has almost half a billion in his bank account at the start of the week, so feel free to dig deep in his pocket."

"It sounds as if you want me to take him down a bit in the pocketbook," I told him, getting a chuckle out of my observation.

"I do, actually," he said, steepling his fingers as he got serious. "We are currently polite rivals in a business venture. And though we are money, at our age it's considered, a breach of etiquette to be bailed out by the clan's bank account."

"So, if I were to drain his funds, his pride would keep him broke until he was able to regenerate his lost income on his own," I said, smiling at the clan insight into the Ventrue.

"Very true," he said, smiling as he dipped his head to his steepled hands. "I would gain an advantage, and if he tried to use the clan to bail himself out, it would cost him socially. It would cost him more boons than he can afford to lose to keep face, and would be a boost for me."

"Which is why you're offering me the power of your office to force Herr Mueller into settling his boon with me?"

"Indeed," he said, dropping his hands to his lap. "You are catching on fast to Jyhad."

"I thought Jyhad was a Middle Eastern thing," I said, wondering if it had other connotations.

"Jyhad means literally, a struggle for self-improvement," he told me. "The Camarilla position on it as anything more than that is that it's entirely false. Personally, I don't see it as a world wide conspiracy against the young. The younger kindred will always rally against their elders and vice-versa; there doesn't need to be a conspiracy."

"I'll agree to that," I told him. "I guess many kindred in town are more worried about their blood for the night than getting one up on everyone else."

"For the most part, that's true," he told me. "The younger ones haven't learned to see past the present to the future. The ones that do, can barely see tomorrow. The few that can see weeks or months or years ahead are the ones you need to stay clear of."

"Like the prince?"

Walsh didn't immediately answer my question, and I read volumes into his silence. The prince was not well liked it seemed. When he did speak, I knew he had been carefully weighing his words.

"He has shown some ability to plan, but his strengths are more in his adaptability and deals," he told me. "He, like I have, has chosen to embrace new and differing ideas to further his own goals. Yourself, for example."

"Like increasing the size of the payments for upholding the masquerade to make it seem as if I had more income potential than I really had?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"So I get caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Yes, it was my intention to ensnare you in debt, a snare I must say you've slipped quite handily."

I smiled at Walsh, thinking that with half a billion dollars I could afford half a dozen places on the beach with no problem. Maybe I should get a financial adviser. I shook my head, I had to get it first.

"So where do I meet Herr Mueller to discuss his boon?" I asked of Walsh.

"It might be best if you met here," Walsh told me after thinking on it for a bit. "Meeting the man on his own turf might not be best for your health."

"Would I be in trouble if during such an encounter against my being if I killed him?" I asked and Walsh shook his head.

"Not from us, officially, but you might earn the ire of any friends and associates he has," he told me. "I know that Mueller and Lacroix have agreements that go back to World War Two, when Germany had successfully invaded France. What you may never have learned is that the kindred in those countries gained and lost as well. Many of the older kindred had to suddenly deal with their young counterparts who were backed by a victorious kine army."

"At least no one turned Hitler," I muttered, and Walsh looked down. "They didn't?"

"Near the end," he said, shaking his head. "It was a last ditch attempt to salvage the war effort. He was suffering from a mental disease, making so many bad choices the German's were losing the war. It was decided that he would be turned, hoping the disease would be stopped and he could return to leading a successful military campaign."

"But we stopped him," I said, remembering that much from history.

"Before he could turn things around, the Allied forces were knocking on the bunker's doors," he confirmed. "Knowing that if he were captured or his body were acquired, it would be very public and a huge masquerade violation, he committed suicide by lighting himself on fire."

"And his wife?" I asked, not sure if I wanted the answer.

"Became his ghoul in the time preceding his death, and followed him in the same gruesome manner," he told me. "His generals and top aides were mostly ghouls, or otherwise knowing of Hitler's newfound identity as a kindred, and helped hide his body in the aftermath by hiding the bunker where he was killed. It's lost to history now. Only the surviving kindred Nazis of Germany, like Mueller, might know where it is."

"Not much point in looking them up now, I guess," I said, shelving the knowledge Welsh was giving and wondering how kindred figured into history. Maybe I should dig up Beckett sometime and see if there were some sort of written addendum to what the kine knew as history for the last two hundred years. "If you would be so kind as to schedule a meeting with Herr Mueller, you can let me know when I need to return."

"It will likely be a few hours before morning," he told me, as he straightened in his chair. "I'll ring you on your cellular phone when I have a firm time for the meeting."

"Thank you, Walsh," I said, standing up as he handed me a list of people's names.

"That's a list of those who now owe you a boon," he said as I scanned the list. I recognized a few names, such as VV and Barker, but most of them didn't ring any bells. "I'll also alert them that the bet has been resolved and that you were the winner. Look for them to start calling by the time you leave this building."

"I'll probably arrange to meet them at my house," I said absently, wondering briefly if I should invest in some sort of upscale eatery. I was on the verge of having money and status, and meeting people in my Great Room didn't fit with that, to me anyway. Maybe I should get an office.

"I'll speak with you later, then," Walsh said as I left his office.

I decided to leave the building, as I had nothing left to take care of and head back to Four-Play. The strip club was currently the only place I could go that I could consider a social spot, and I definitely needed to think on a place that could be considered a polite social attraction, like a restaurant.

'God,' I thought as I reached that conclusion while dropping through the tower. 'I'm turning into a mafioso.'

* * *

Addendum: Per Darkladyevanstar's review, let me clarify something. I don't hate ANY reviews. Call me every bad name in the book, I don't care. In fact, I've actually been thinking of holding the next chapter hostage till I get at least five reviews of the current chapter. I love my reviews, even check my email for notices about new reviews days after a chapter is uploaded. That's why I can respond so fast to your inquiries and reviews.

So please, keep those reviews coming.


	43. Chapter 43 - The Hit

Author's Note: Just a quick shout out to my reviewers and all their lovely reviews, my followers, and people who just read the story and suffer in silence.

Hi.

Okay, so my life has settled down a bit, and I'm back to writing more often, and I wrote this chapter. I hope everyone enjoys it, and lays to rest that Eliza is an all powerful character.

Remember, we have a few sayings in the D&D world.

1) That moment when you anger the DM.

2) Critical Failure happens to us all

3) If you fail, make it entertaining.

4) Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil because it is fucking terrified of me.

Just a thought...

Love it, hate it, want me to burn and die? I won't know if you don't review!

* * *

Chapter 43 – The Hit

October 5, 2004 = Tuesday

~Eliza Flores~

The drive to Four-Play was relaxing, and finally having all my ducks in a row for the night promised to be an experience. The clock on my Ninja read just past one when I got there, and I snagged a spot for my bike across the street. It was quiet, with no cars moving and just a man in a hoodie waiting by the door.

I might have dismissed him as I went in as a patron who was waiting for a ride if it weren't for the look he gave me as I passed him, eyes widening a bit in surprise. It made me stop, looking at the man who immediately turned and walked away. I got one good look at his hand before he stuffed it in a pocket, seeing the tanned skin. It pegged him as human, and a bolt of fear hit me.

Hunter.

I quickly stepped inside, then leaned against the door as I pushed my senses into the shadows outside and followed him. I quickly found him, half a block away as he tried to hide behind a van, phone in hand as he talked to someone.

"Yeah, I got one," he said as I watched him. "I'll make sure she doesn't leave. Just get here quick," he said, then hung up the phone as he headed back up the street to my bike, this time pulling a knife from a pocket.

With a slow exhale, I watched as he slashed the tires on my Ninja, dropping it flat to the pavement before I pulled my senses from the shadows and back to my body. I didn't want to have hunters hit the place and harm the innocent here, plus it would be bad for business. I didn't see much of a way around what was coming, so I decided to cut my losses and face them here, where the walls would hopefully keep kindred secrets bottled up in case I had to cut loose with the shadows.

Pushing through the doors to the room beyond, I headed straight for Duke's office only to stop when I found the man at the bar talking with a young out-of-a-bottle blond with an oversized boob job. Seriously, how did she not hurt her back with those?

"Duke, we need to talk," I said, standing at his elbow.

"Sure," he said, then turned back to the lady. "Tomorrow, bring your gear and be ready to start dancing at about seven."

"Thanks!" she said, leaning forward to hug Duke before turning to the barman and ordering a Scotch and soda.

Duke led the way to his office, where I told him about the guy outside recognizing me.

"I hate to hear that," he said, disgusted. "My first thought is let them come in so we can throw them out. My second is, what if they come in with guns?"

"Fill me full of lead so people can see me standing there full of bullet holes with no blood pouring out," I said, agreeing with him. "That would be a breach of the masquerade, meaning my own kind would kill me if I didn't play dead. Doing that also means I can't stay in town, unless I get rid of all the proof and witnesses."

"What if we put everyone out the back door as they come in the front?" he said, giving me a middle option. "They won't be long in getting here, so we play it loose, get everyone clear as they start the ball then me and you can lay 'em out."

"Where you and your bouncers claim they caused a disturbance and you handled it," I said, liking his idea. "Almost everyone should be safe, and we can use Angel and Amber to escort them out, as they are more likely to survive getting hit and they can keep going with the group as they likely don't have fighting experience, least not this type of fighting experience."

"Now we just need to know when they come in," Duke said, making me smile. "I can hit the fire alarm in here, using the cameras to watch for them. We route everyone down the alley and away from the street and the fighting, and let the cops drag them away later. No witnesses here will be able to say anyone died, as hopefully only me and you will be in the building when those hunters are here."

"That's good," I told him. "I'll man the front, keeping them out until we're ready for them."

"Alright," he said, then smiled at a thought. "You do know that the lady at the front is an advertisement for the goods in here. Almost all the girls take turns at the register, in the clothes they dance in."

"You mean?" I asked, then looked down at my outfit. God this was embarrassing.

"So, thong or G-string?" he said with a lascivious smile.

"Umm," I said, slipping out of my leather duster. "Bikini?"

"Oh, honey," he said with a chuckle as he headed for his door. "I'll be right back. Go ahead and get stripped. We don't have long."

After he left, I went ahead and stripped out of my clothes, leaving me in nothing but bare skin. Feeling self conscious, I slipped my duster over my shoulders, huddling under it without actually putting it on. Duke wasn't long in returning, a pair of high heeled shoes under one arm and some clothing in his hand. He then came over and handed me a black silk g-string.

"Put this on," he told me, and I fingered the barely their panties.

"Who'd you get them from?" I asked, not wanting to put any one's used laundry.

"Dancer named Gina," he said, setting the heels on his desk. "She keeps extras here in case some drunk spills his drink all over her. I borrowed a set and her heels. Don't worry, they're clean."

Taking a casual whiff of the g-string, I could smell the lavender and soap Gina used to wash them, but nothing other than that. Taking that as a good sign, I slipped the panties on, then Duke handed me a netted band that wouldn't hide anything.

"That's the skirt," he said, and I stepped into it and slipped it up over my hips. I still didn't let Duke see me as I dressed, hiding myself under my duster as he held up a pair of skin hued hearts. "Since you can't see yourself, I need to put these on your nipples. I do still have laws to uphold, you know."

"What are they?" I asked him, wondering what the hearts were for.

"They're called pasties, and the laws in the county make all the girls in the place wear them, though most of the girls take them in the VIP area or use a set that looks real," Duke told me as if he were teaching a newbie. I guess, in reality, I was when it came to this stuff. "They have to cover the areola, but since most girls put them on with a mirror and you can't..." he said and I got the hint, nodding my acquiescence as I opened the duster to reveal my bare breasts.

"So, what was the deal with the girl you were talking to?" I asked him while he applied the pasties to my breasts.

"That was Tessa, just moved into the area last week with her two girls and boy," he told me. "Unlike most of the girls I hire, she's a professional dancer like Angel and also a member of the triple 'H' club. Unlike Angel, she already knows what she needs to do to make money so there's nothing for me to do but let her do it."

"And the boob job?"

"Guys love a rack they can boat in," he said with a chuckle as he stepped back after applying the last pastie. "The bigger the better. I got a guy if you're interested in an upgrade to the double letter category."

"No, thanks," I said, when he handed me the top. It was a netted thing, resembling a crop top with sleeves that hid nothing. I had stockings that hid more. "Aren't I supposed to wear something under it?"

"Just the pasties," he said with a grin I could have slapped off his face.

Pressed for time though, I decided to roll with it if it helped save lives and slipped it on over my head. Then Duke handed me the heels, which were twelve inches with only a four inch actual rise thanks to the eight inch block under the toes., and I sat on a chair to strap them on. Duke had to help me stand, and I wondered how the girls put these things on and danced in them. It was hard just to stand as I wobbled so much.

"Tell the girl out front you're relieving her," Duke told me as I looked down at myself with a little disgust. "She won't give you any problems and will probably be glad to get back to work. Oh, and take these," he said, handing me a pair of small round blue tinted glasses from his pocket. "They'll look better than that pair you're wearing.

"And if any guys try to buy me on my way there?" I asked, giving Duke a frown as I changed the glasses.

"Tell them you're busy and will be back later," he said with a chuckle as he took in my look. "Great, can't tell your irises aren't there."

I nodded my approval and thanks, and not wanting to be the butt of any jokes, I started to walk slowly for the door, being careful not to fall or wobble too much. I got better the further I went, but as I came around the stage and was almost to the door to the front area, my ankle gave out and I fell across a guys lap, his arms catching me and keeping me from falling into the floor. The guy found it humorous, laughing a bit to shake me and I was mortified as the thought that the only thing I was wearing that could be considered real clothing was a g-string, otherwise I was completely nude.

"It's a nice thought, ma'am, but I'll tell you now I'm just here for the scenery," he said with a slightly southern drawl.

"Hardly," I told him, forcing a smile to show I wasn't upset. "Not used to wearing heels this high."

"It's all about practice," he said, as I straightened up. "It'll be interesting to see you dance later."

"It might not be tonight," I said, enjoying his gentlemanly charm, and I knew he was a gentleman as he didn't look at my bare breasts hidden only by a set of plastic stickers and netting but at my eyes.

"That's a shame," he said, giving me a smirk. "Might be worth the money to get a dance from you."

"If you don't have much money," I asked him after I took a whiff of his breath and was surprised to not smell alcohol, "why do you come here then?" I looked quickly to his drink, finding it a glass of dark colored soda whose fizz was still fixed to the side.

"To unwind," he said, lowering his arm now that I had myself sitting on his lap and not just draped across it. "Sometimes the day gets rough and I stop by here to calm down before I head home for the day."

"What do you do?" I asked him, wondering what would work the man up that he had to find ways of calming down at night to sleep.

"I work for a company back east who has bought all the junk rail," he told me, though I had no idea what that meant. "It's my job to put it on trucks and send it back to our yard so they can process and recycle it. The problem is, I think the drivers enjoy running my blood pressure up for the hell of it."

"So I'll see you in here again soon, won't I?" I asked and he nodded his head.

"Just as soon as I go back to work again," he groused, then lifted his arm to look at his watch. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"We'll have to see what fun we have next time you're in," I told him, then stood out of his lap.

"Just remember to practice walking and dancing in those heels," he said as he stood beside me. "Otherwise, you're liable to hurt yourself dancing onstage."

I smiled, though inwardly I grimaced as I turned to loop my arm in his for support, getting a view of the girl on stage. She was dressed only in a g-string, and I mean string, and had her breasts around a guys face as she leaned over the side of the stage. I had to admit I didn't understand it, why girls would do something like this when more honest careers were out there. Weren't we supposed to be empowered, or something?

"Walk me to the door?" I asked, giving him a smile.

"Sure," he said, taking my proffered arm. "So, what's your name so I can find you again?"

I thought fast, thinking of how the girls named themselves and then responded with, "Vixen."

"Well, Vixen, I'm William," the guy said as we went through the doors into the lobby area. "And I'll look forward to seeing you again."

"You too, William," I said, giving him a hug before he slipped out the doors.

"You better get your ass back inside," the girl said from the register. "You won't like the consequences if you can't make Duke's stage fee."

"I take it you have had the pleasure of Duke's couch?" I asked her, and she dropped her head as I got closer.

"Pleasure, yeah," she said, finally raising her head. "You got kids?"

"No," I said, and she shook her head.

"Then you won't understand," she said turning back to the register, avoiding making eye contact.

"Understand what?" I asked as I moved to stand beside her.

"Making a choice," she said as if I understood.

"What choice?" I asked her, and she squirmed a bit under my stare.

"I only work here a few nights a week," she told me, her voice low as if she were trying to hide something. "When my ex has the kids. In those two nights, I have to make all the money to support my baby girls, and sometimes, the money doesn't come in well enough to do that and pay Duke off."

"So the choice?" I asked, my face slack as I began to understand. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your problem," she breathed.

"How would you deal with it?" I asked her, wanting to know more about an industry I really knew nothing about.

"Maybe if the stage price wasn't so high," she said finally. "I know he has to make money, but sometimes I think he tries to make it so we can't pay him."

"Anything else?" I asked her.

"No, other than that he's been pretty fair," she told me.

"Well, go back inside and make some money while you can," I told her, taking a step and nearly falling again.

"Thanks," she said with a smile, getting up to wrap her arms around me. The act was both warm and helpful, as it helped steady me, and she gave me a peck on the cheek. "New, huh?"

"First night," I said with a wan smile.

"Want a tip?" she asked and I nodded my head. "Don't take off the heels. Your feet will swell and you might not get them on again. Also, practice walking with one hand on the wall while your out here. Maybe try walking in your kitchen or something at home, too. Heels, especially heels this high. You can really hurt yourself if you're not careful."

"Thanks hon," I said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "Now, go make some money and buy your girls something nice for Christmas."

She gave me another peck on the cheek before she hurried back inside, leaving me alone in the lobby. I sat on the stool provided, wondering how I had fallen so far. I hated being the monster, and now I was right back to where I started, sanctioning the ruining of lives.

God, how I hated myself.

As I sat there, pondering my future, I could only be reminded of what Jean had told me. My beast was running loose, and I had to start gaining control of it. It was pushing me down lines of thinking that could make me worse than the fictional Dracula, taking blood from any source until they died and killing any who stood in my way. My only benefit was that I knew of it and had time to seek help before it became terminal. I just had to do it.

I was interrupted from my line of thinking when Yukie walked in, fumbling with a pink pearl clasped purse. "One entry, please," she said, before looking up and her jaw dropping. I took in her traditional Chinese dress, a short sleeved cheongsam with a floral print that reached to her knees, and the red leather purse slung over her shoulder.

"Demon," she said, reaching into her purse for something I figured was a stake.

"Yukie," I said, forcing a smile at seeing the hunter. "Here to kill me?" I asked, wondering if she were the hunter that had been called to kill the kindred here.

"Kill you?" she said, looking confused. "I follow you here. I wonder if you were being monster, if I should kill you, yet you work here? I am confused."

"I own a part of the place as a partner," I explained to her. "I'm out here at the entrance because I'm expecting hunters to come kill me, and I want to do it away from the innocent."

"Why not run?" she asked, her head nodding as she began to understand.

"Because they might harm the innocent looking for me," I told her, and a smile quirked her lips. "At least if I'm here, I can protect them or die trying."

"You are good demon," she said, removing her empty hand from her purse. "I cannot help you with hunters, but I will not help them either. They are wrong."

"Do you want a better job?" I asked and she looked at me with a funny look. "I own part of a club called Confessions in downtown LA that is looking for bouncers and such. Since I know you can handle yourself, I thought you might like a job where you can quit dressing like a hooker."

"You want me to be your servant?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"Employee, not servant," I said, then decided I better explain it better. Yukie's English wasn't the best. "I'll pay you with money, not blood, just like if I weren't a demon. Interested?"

"Very," she said with a giggle. "Maybe then I can afford apartment where much crime doesn't happen."

"Still interested in going in, or do you want to walk away?" I asked and she looked thoughtful.

"I will wait," she said, giving me a smile. "I think you will survive hunters and we can talk about new job for me."

"Just go on in then," I told her, and she started for the door. "Once I'm done, I'll come looking for you."

"Thank you, demon," she said, then disappeared through the door into the club. I didn't know if she would help or damn my ass in a fight with hunters, but at least I had the chance to improve one person's life.

I returned to waiting, pushing my sight into a shadow outside to check for hunters when they would come. Time passed, maybe twenty minutes or so, when a blue van with no rear windows stopped outside. Men poured out just as the fire alarm came on, but what I saw next brought my head up. A large man with thick matted hair stepped out of the back of the van and onto the ground. One look, and I knew he was kindred.

"Oh shit," I swore, realizing that I had made a very bad mistake.

It wasn't hunters, I was about to get hit by the Sabbat.

Panicked, I went to the main door and locked it before going the lobby to open that door to see Duke ushering everyone out the back, the last few already lined up to go. I went inside, seeing Yukie arguing with a bouncer who had just grabbed her by the arm. Yukie slapped the man hard, making the guy release her and I hustled over to interefere before Yukie really laid into him.

"Get out of here," I growled at the man who seemed to realize messing with me was a box he didn't want to open. The man backed off, moving for the exit at Duke's insistence and was the last one out the door, leaving me, Yukie and Duke.

"Get ready for a fight, Yukie," I told her, bending over to get my feet out of these ankle popping high heels, even though it meant I was going to fight barefoot and mostly nude. "It's demons, not hunters that are coming."

"Demons?" she said, sounding skeptical. "These are more of those that do not get along with you?"

"They're the worst," I told her, just as a burst of automatic gunfire rang through the club, the speakers silent now that the song was over. "They'd kill you for being human, and probably torture you to death if they find out you're a hunter. They might also turn you, and you'd rather be turned by me than them."

"I will stand with you demon," she said, pulling a stake from her purse. "These are demons who make little girl a hunter."

Another burst of gunfire rang through the club, then I could hear them pouring into the lobby and the inner door broke into two big pieces as the big bruiser of a kindred rammed his way through. Men poured into the large room, and the three of us faced off against the Sabbat.

"Looky, looky," big boy growled, as the others formed behind him, some carrying shotguns and one had an oversized pistol with what looked dual forward grips, but as I looked closer, realized it was a clip and a grip. Two more stood in the back, red gas cans in their hands. "Burn it down boys!"

I raised my hands, bringing up shadow tentacles to ensnare as many as I could. I got two of the shotgun wielding guys, and the funky pistol holding one, but that was it. Funky pistol let loose with his gun, and I found out the thing was an automatic when he emptied his clip in under a second, but it didn't stop my tentacle from breaking his neck. The shotgun holders were more successful, but big boy let out a howl and charged me, tackling me to the floor.

I lost track of the fight after that, as I was concerned only with the big boy attacking me. I realized fast he was a Gangrel like Jean when his hands turned into bear-like claws and swiped at me. I wedged my leg between us, easy as he wasn't skin to skin but just kneeling over me and used potence to throw him into the second floor VIP area.

Free from any immediate fight, I saw Yukie in a wrestling match with a former shotgun wielder, the little Asian seemed to be using my potence to beat the man senseless with her fists. Duke was going toe to toe with two others, and the men with the gas were pouring it out over the stage and furniture. I knew if they lit it, the fire could kill me or at least send me into frenzy, and I wasn't looking forward to that.

I formed a katana from the shadows, hoping that it wouldn't spark if it hit metal since it was made of shadow, and pounced the arsonists. I hit one in the back, knocking him over the gas covered stage, when the other turned and sloshed some of the gas he was pouring on me. I worked my katana in a circle, slashing the man from jewels to sternum. The other man came around with a lighter, the flame flickering into life with a flip of his thumb.

The flame poured onto the stage as I activated my celerity, seeing the flames spread in an ever expanding pool as they enveloped the man with the lighter who was now lying in the flames, his face twisting into shock as he realized his mistake. I turned and jumped for it, seeing a huge hairy form rush past me as I struggled to get clear.

A loud whoosh accompanied a bright flash I only saw for the briefest of moments as I hit the floor, turning back to see big boy emerge from the flames, though now he looked like an oversized grizzly with yellow eyes. He didn't even slow down as he came out, and I rolled away under a table. With one swipe of his paw, he knocked the table clear across the room, and I scrambled to my feet and ran away from the flames, already feeling my beast fighting for control as it crawled and snaked through me.

I ran into the hallway past the bar, into an area I supposed the girls danced for paying customers in. It was tight, but tight was what I wanted with the big brute. He hit the entrance full on with his shoulders, the wood creaking but holding as he tried to get in. I stood, forcing myself to be calm as I made a katana and got ready to fight.

The big brute of a bear snarled and growled, until his eyes suddenly lost their yellow and returned to normal. I thought he might be changing back to normal, but he only stepped back and shake his head once, before settling on his haunches. I got it then, he had frenzied, the fire pushing him into losing his mind.

Back in his own mind, he studied the small door, then wriggled through it after rotating his shoulders with no problem. He advanced slowly, and I readied myself for the fight. He didn't charge though, his more human mind knowing I could hurt him with the sword. I was somewhat content to let him take his time, seeing the fire spread behind him. I could jump out through the shadows, but I figured this guy had potence too and could make his own doorway out.

When he was within easy reach of my katana, I took a swipe at him, trying to slash him across his face, but my sword dissipated the moment it touched his fur. He seemed to chuckle then, as he took another step and I conjured one of those big long swords from medieval times. I brought it down again, the brute stopping to allow me to the chance to swing.

Again, once my sword connected, it dissipated. I froze in panic, the knowledge that none of my shadow swords would work shocking me. Brute reared up, then swiped me with a paw, the claws slashing me across my chest and ripping the crop top netting from me and the force putting me the floor. I scrambled away, going into a roundabout type area with a circle sofa.

I was hoping the small area would help keep him away, but he kept advancing, wriggling his way into the tight area. When I figured he would take a moment to get out, I quickly hopped over the divider, flames already spreading to the doorway as the dry carpet burned quickly.

I backpedaled away from the door, seeing yellow cloud my vision. Brute landed in the doorway, turning on rear legs to face me. I smiled as a thought hit me. I couldn't take him on, but I could delay him long enough to hopefully let this place be his funeral pyre. Summoning the shadows as I did when I first started to use them, I sent him to the void, leaving nothing behind but a shadowy pillar where he stood.

Turning, I began using my potence to rip seats up and toss them at the shadowy pillar, letting the fire spread over them. I had most of the seats piled around the pillar, the fire spreading so far around the area that I climbed the walls as a shadow. I could see the fire as it burned all over now, even the firemen as they tried to come in the front. At least as a shadow my vision no longer had the yellow tint around the edges.

Brute came back, and with a roar, charged forward through the fire-covered seats. He swatted at the fire as it crawled over him, and I had to figure he was frenzied again. With a roar, he fell back as his body crumbled into ash. Knowing that I would be joining him soon unless I did something, I jumped into Duke's office.

I looked around, finding my clothes where I left them, when the door burst open. Two firemen came in, flanking me as I grabbed my clothes and boots. I didn't even get time to slip the coat on to hide my bare breasts before they grabbed me by the arms.

"Miss, is there anyone else in here?" one of the firemen shouted through his mask.

"No, I was supposed to wait on Duke," I told the men.

"Come with us," he told me, and they began dragging me out of the office. I went with them, knowing they would take me outside the best way possible which would be the door just outside. I ended up being right, and they took me out front where two ambulances were setup. Paramedics were checking everyone, and I saw Yukie on a stretcher being put in an ambulance with a bloody bandage wrapped around a shoulder and a sheet draped over her. The poor girl looked pale, and I wondered how she fared in her fight.

"Miss," one of the technicians said, a tall man of Native American descent said. "Were you burned anywhere?"

"Um, no," I said, as Yukie gave me a thumbs up, but her hand was shaking. "I was in an office away from the fire."

"Any smoke?" he asked me and I shook my head.

"No, I didn't even know the fire was there until the firemen came and got me," I told him.

"Well, you don't seem to need medical attention," he told me, as his partner climbed in the back with Yukie, "But if you have problems, get to an ER immediately."

"Thank you," I said, as he and his partner began to look at Yukie more closely.

"She's lost a lot of blood with at least two GSW's," said the man whose name tag read Gage in the light of the ambulance. "We better get her to the hospital quick."

"You mind if I ride along," I asked them, as the man named De Soto climbed down from the ambulance. "She's a friend of mine."

"Sure," Gage said, and I climbed in. "You can sit there. It won't take long."

"Thanks," I told him as I sat opposite him. Yukie looked so pale, and her eyes weren't able to focus but she was conscious. The ambulance began to move, and I looked at the paramedic. I didn't need him back here, but I could only hope this worked. "Sleep."

The man's eyes rolled back up into his head, and I looked down at Yukie. "Yukie, look at me," I asked her. She finally got her eyes to look at me, but there was a hunger in them.

"So...empty," she breathed, and I stroked her hair.

"It's time for your next dose of blood," I told her, and she closed her eyes slowly, then slowly opened them, the fear evident in her eyes. "If I give it to you, you'll survive this wound. If I don't, you'll likely die."

"Will," she started to say, coughing a bit. I wiped the spittle from her lip, finding it pink. I lifted the sheet covering her, finding the second bullet wound in her chest that the blood was just now soaking through. "Will...you...care...for...me?" she finally said, having to force each word out.

"Until your dying day," I told her. Yukie closed her eyes again, and this time nodded slowly.

Biting my wrist, I poured a little blood into her mouth which she managed to swallow. After that, she seemed to pass out as she never reopened her eyes. Looking at the paramedic, I decided on a way to snap him out of his enthrallment that would cover up any time passing. Grabbing him by the shirt, I pushed him against the wall with a thud.

"Ow," he said, as he got back up and began to check on Yukie again.

"You okay back there?" the driver asked after opening the small window between us.

"Slipped," he said, and then began to listen for Yukie's heart with a stethoscope. "Patient has passed out, but her heartbeat is strong."

"Five minutes," he said, and closed the window.

I began to get dressed, no longer having to worry about Yukie surviving. I slipped the netting off my hips, and pulled my leather pants on along with my red spandex shirt. Modesty protected, I put my socks and boots on, though didn't tie them, then began to thread my belt around my waist as we pulled into the hospital.

After the paramedics left with Yukie, I put the gun behind my back and threaded the belt through it before fastening the belt. Slipping my coat on, I pocketed the netted skirt and my panties and followed Yukie on her rolling stretcher. A doctor stopped the paramedics and looked at Yukie's wounds, then he grabbed a bed from the wall and placed it beside the stretcher.

"Swap her over," he said, as he and a nurse took one side and the paramedics took the other. When Yukie was on the hospital bed, the doctor turned to the nurse. "OR, immediately. That bullet hit one lung and if it didn't hit the heart, it'll be a miracle. And get the kit ready to reinflate the lung. It'll likely collapse when we open her up."

"Yes, Doctor Brackett," the nurse said, wheeling Yukie away.

"Um, ma'am," the doctor said, turning to me. "Do you know the patient?"

"A bit," I told him. "Her name is Yukie and she's from Japan."

"Do you happen to know if she's allergic to anything?" he asked me, as he wrote her name on a notepad.

"No, but we've only known each other for a short time," I told him. "She works at the Ramen Shop in Chinatown. It's where we met."

"Thank you, miss," he said as he wrote it all down. "And your name?"

"Elisa Flores," I told him, stressing the 's' in my false name. "I live in Malibu, if anyone needs me."

"The police may want to follow up," he said as he tucked his notepad away. "I'll do my best to save your friend, but I have to warn you, the bullet may have nicked her heart. The chances of her surviving are slim."  
"I have faith Yukie will pull through just fine, doctor," I told him, giving him a smile. "She's a fighter. Can you call me when she's out of surgery?"

"Sure," he said, pulling out his notepad. I gave him my number and he wrote it down. "You've been very helpful, Miss Flores."

"As have you doctor," I told him as he turned and headed to scrub up for surgery.

With nothing else to do, I jumped back to the Four-Play, finding most of the girls there giving their statements to police. Several cars that had been parked next to the building had been damaged due to falling debris, but otherwise driveable as the fire department had hosed them down to keep them cool as the fire burned. Other than that, the building was a complete loss, probably owing to age and a large amount of dried wood inside.

"Hey," Sharron said as she moved up beside me. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, but it was obvious from the amount of skin showing that she was mostly in lingerie. "Did you hear?"

"About the fire, yeah," I said, looking at the ruin of a building.

"No, about Duke," she said, bowing her head. "They pulled his body from the building a few minutes ago. It's over there," she said, pointing to where five body bags were lined up on the sidewalk.

"Are you sure?" I asked her, and she nodded.

"He had his ID on him," she told me, and I silently cursed the Sabbat for this. "But we all knew it was him. What happened? Why did they do this?"

"They're called the Sabbat," I said, leading her away from the crowd for a private chat. "They hate the group I'm with and are apparently hitting any place connected with us. Was anyone hurt?"

"Just Duke and some girl that was trying to crawl out of the lobby," she told me. "I'd never seen her before, but she'd been shot in the chest and shoulder."

"That was Yukie," I told her, and she looked at me with sad eyes. "She's a ghoul like you'll, and she'll be fine. The doctor will the bullet out in a bit and she'll be back on her feet this time next week."

"Oh, great," she said, smiling a bit. "Other than that, just a few of the guys that burned the place down."

"And Duke?" I asked and she shook her head.

"Bullet holes all over his chest," she told me, then hiccuped as she began to cry, leaning on my shoulder for comfort. I wrapped my arm around her and comforted her, but knew this was just traumatizing. It took a few minutes, but she finally regained her composure. "What are we going to do now?" she asked me.

"I guess since this will be a crime scene and be held up for months as they try to figure things out, I'll get us more land and we'll build another club," I told her, and her face brightened a bit.

"You won't abandon us?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"Gather everyone at the motel tomorrow night," I told her, thinking of the girl who had just lost her livelihood and her little girls. "I'll pay everyone enough to get by, but we'll try to get a club going elsewhere as soon as we can. When we meet up tomorrow at dusk, I want ideas for places to move to, new club names, and maybe the name of a contractor or two so we can do some renovating plus a list of all the equipment we'll need to replace."

"Oh, thank you," she said, giving me another hug. "I was afraid you'd just leave us or make us do porn or something."

"No, no porn for you," I said, feeling guilty at the thought that I'd ever forced her into doing something that low against her will. "And I'm sorry about the other day. I was wrong to force you to do that."

"Guess I deserved it, in a way," she told me, her voice cracking a bit. "I don't hit the eight ball anymore."

"You don't need that junk in your system, anyway," I told her, giving her a smile.

"Just you," she said, running a hand through my hair.

"I, uh, I need to make a few phone calls," I told her, thinking I needed to call Walsh and report this. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure," she said, her smile brightening her face.

"Can you get new tires put on my Ninja?" I asked her, fishing the key out of my pocket. "One of the Sabbat thugs slashed my tires before all this started."

"Oh yeah," she said, taking the key, then looked down at her lack of credible clothing before shoving it in her bra. "You should customize it. I know a guy who can put some wicked rims on it."

"Really?" I said, thinking maybe I should.

"Tell you what, I'll get it to his shop today and tonight I'll bring a brochure full of rim and tire types and you can pick out what you want," she told me, being helpful in her thinking. "Once he gets it done, I can bring it to your apartment."

"I have a mansion in Malibu, now," I told and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "You can ride?"

"Malibu? Oh you gotta let me stay there!" she squealed excitedly. "And I used to ride all the time. Had this Honda Shadow that I got from my aunt and it had the smoothest engine. I used to enjoy riding it."

"What happened to it?" I asked her, and she shook her head.

"Guy stole it while I was at work one day," she told me, shaking her head. "Cops found it three days later, wrapped around a tree."

"Why didn't you buy another bike?" I asked and she gave me a mirthful smile.

"I used the money to come out here," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "Wanted to make it big, but I bombed big time."

"I wouldn't say that," I told her, give her shoulders a squeeze. "You did find immortality."

"That I did," she said, as she moved off as another girl called for her. I let her go, pulling out my phone and called Walsh.

"Walsh here," he said when he picked up the line.

"It's Eliza," I told him. "Just got hit by the Sabbat at my club, Four-Play."

"Damn," he grumbled. "How bad?"

"Place is a complete loss, one ghoul dead, another in the hospital," I told him and I swear I heard him sigh. "I took down one kindred, a gangrel, male, transformed fully into a big bear. Also got four humans dead here, all with Sabbat connections."

"You're lucky," he told me and I scoffed at him.

"Lucky?" I said a little more shrilly than I meant to be. "My swords broke when they hit him!" I hissed into the phone. "I didn't even know that was possible!"

"It's the power of fortitude," he told me, his calm voice and demeanor somehow calming me. "The more experienced with it you are, the more resistant to damage you become. I've seen it before, in a duel in Washington DC back in '69. A Toreador called out a Ventrue over some slight in a land deal, and they were to duel to the death over it. The Ventrue just stood there and let the Toreador hit him, his mastery of fortitude breaking the sword and my fellow Ventrue just ran him through after that."

"1869?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"Yes, it was a more direct time," he said with a chuckle.

"Anything that needs to be done?" I asked him.

"Not from my end," he told me. "Good luck rebuilding your club and be at my office at five for your meeting with Herr Mueller."

"Thanks, Walsh," I said and the line went dead.

Looking around at the devastation, I decided that there was nothing more to do here, but I could only wonder what to do until my meeting. Only one thing came to mind that made a lot of sense, and that was to start working on the list of people who owed me boons. Pulling out the list, my eyes went to the first name on the list, Elizabeth Swan of clan Toreador.

Maybe Michele knew her.


	44. Chapter 44 - These are the Nights

Chapter 44 – These are the Night's of my Unlife

October 5, 2004 = Tuesday

~Eliza Flores~

With my bike out of commission and no other way of moving long distances, I walked into the alley for a place to shadow-step. Stepping in behind a dumpster, and with no one looking, I stepped to Michele's front door. I could have stepped inside, right back to her inner sanctum, but didn't want to be rude. Pushing the doorbell button, I waited patiently for Remy to answer the door.

She did, half a minute later wearing a pink evening dress with a high collar connected in the front by sheer panels. It flowed like silk, and I wondered why Michele allowed her ghoul to dress so lavishly. Maybe it was payment for ripping her away from her normal life, I thought, almost frowning at the thought of what I had done with my own ghouls and the lack of choices I allowed them to have.

"Mademoiselle Flores," she said, smiling at me. "I was not told to expect you."

"I need to see Michele," I told her, the ghoul's smile becoming a bit forced. "Is she in?"

"We have just returned from a meeting," she said, ushering me inside. "I was in the middle of re-robing her, but I will see if she will see you know."

Remy led me into a parlor to wait until she returned, but I declined the offer to sit. I wasn't in the mood for the social necessities, but I forced myself to be calm and smile politely at the ghoul as she left me alone. With nothing to do, I drifted around the room, my fingers brushing over the ornate grand piano with golden scroll motifs. The lid was raised, and I could see the polished brass pins shine in the pale light.

I moved to the keyboard, finding the ivory keys twinkling in the pale light of the room. With nothing to do, and needing to calm myself anyway, I pulled the bench out and sat down. Raising my hands over the keys, I hit an 'A' chord, allowing my fingers to flow over the keyboard in an arpeggio pattern. Liking the way it sounded, I did it again, switching to a 'C' chord after finishing the 'A' chord before returning to the first chord to do the 'A' and 'C' chords over again.

"I'm so tired of being here," I sang, feeling the pain the song was meant to evoke as I continued to play 'My Immortal' from Evanescence's latest album. It was one of two songs I actually liked on that album, the other being the more popular 'Bring Me To Life' which was used in the blockbuster movie, 'Daredevil.'

The song allowed me to vent some of my frustration, and the piano was so top notch that it seemed to make the song all the more authentic. When I finished playing the last note, I turned to see Michele standing in the entrance in a very opulent crystal-beaded dress in a mermaid layout. She was smiling at me, and moved closer.

"I am glad you can play," she said, as she came to stand by the piano to run a hand over the fancy case it had. "It was a gift, many years ago, from an old friend. He knew of my love for the piano, how I used to love playing when I was still alive."

"Why did you stop?" I asked her, and her smile faded.

"I became kindred," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of regret. "We Toreador are artists, but when we partake of the blood, we often lose a part of us. Don't get me wrong, we can still perform, but it lacks a certain aesthetic from when we were alive. What is the saying? I can play the notes, but my soul is not in it?"

"Sounds about right," I said, thinking it had to be a terrible way to spend your eternity. "Does it affect the other clans?"

"It does not seem to," she said, giving me a smile. "Your playing was wonderful to listen to, as is your voice."

"Thank you, Michele," I said, smiling at the compliment.

"So what brings you to Beverly Hills?" she asked me, sitting on a nearby divan.

"I was wondering if you knew an Elizabeth Swan," I said, pulling the list of names from my jacket and handing it to her. "I won the bet that had been made concerning the nightclub Confessions, and it's owner, Venus Dare."

"Ah, such a silly bet," she said, looking over the list. "Nearly ruining a club just to see whom can still influence the kine without their powers. The Ventrue always try to buy their way through while Toreadors offer whatever talent they have under their control if the owner will but sign a contract to make the club as a showcase for what is many times a second rate band."

"Gangrel and Brujah seem to favor violence and threats," I noted, and Michele nodded her head.

"But without their powers, they often find they have little in the way of backing it up," she said, giving voice to her experience.

"So, what about Elizabeth?" I asked, steering our conversation back to the target. "What did she offer?"

"Nothing," she said, and I frowned which prompted Michele to continue on. "Elizabeth was acting as peacekeeper on my orders to get two fellow Toreadors to reconcile before the Anarchs lost another influential member. As payment to one, she took one of his boons, the boon it now seems is owed to you."

"Ah," I said, getting it. "Well, in that case, I won't make it too difficult for her. Do you know where I can find her?"

"She runs a little place not far from the Tremere Chantry," she said and I started to try and map it in my mind. "As with most nights, the 'den mother of the Anarchs' can be found there."

"Den mother?" I asked, not sure if I heard her right. "You mean, Elizabeth Swan is Damsel?"

"Oui," she said, smiling at my shock. "In polite circles, she is referred to by her birth name, but among the Anarchs they use her nom de guerre."

"Her nickname," I thought absently, processing it. Well, if Damsel owed me a boon, maybe I'd just anull it or something. No sense in making an enemy out of a friend.

"War name would be more accurate," she corrected, and I nodded my head.

"Well, since I know where to find her, I don't need you to arrange a meeting between us," I finally said aloud.

"Oui," Michele said, "But I can arrange for you to meet the other Toreadors on the list, and maybe help you find the others. If nothing else, I can let them know that you now possess their boon unless you have something in mind for them to do?"

"Not really," I said, sighing that I didn't know more about the city. "I do need a new place to put a club, preferably in the Santa Monica area."

"I do know a kindred who has a building he is willing to lease," she said thoughtfully. "He had big dreams about breaking into the entertainment industry, but a recent Sabbat raid has destroyed his dreams utterly. He was only able to save one of his girls by ghouling her, but she ran away before she could be commanded to obey."

"Who is he?" I asked, thinking that he could be the key to solving most of my current problems.

"Felix Barker," she said, and my jaw dropped.

"Barker?" I said, stunned at the revelation. "Guess that's why Sugar lost her voice."

"Miss O'Reilly lives with you?"

"Not directly. She works, or worked rather, at my club," I told her, wondering if I was committing some kind of faux pas by helping her.

"I am glad," she told me and I felt relief wash through me. "Felix Barker has hated ghouls ever since I used Remy to lure him closer to me."

"And he fathered Remy's daughter before you turned him," I said, getting the whole picture. "And since he left her to die..." I said aloud, letting my voice trail off as I looked into Michele's eyes.

"Remy harbors a powerful hate for the man," she told me, shaking her head. "She loved her daughter as much as she loves me. If it weren't for my orders being the basis of her life, she would have killed Felix when he resurfaced in New York City."

"Can she do it?" I asked, wondering if a ghoul could stand up to a kindred if particularly motivated. "Can she kill him?"

"She can, even now after many years," she said, surprising me. "She has a taste for celerity which I think she gets from me."

"I take it Barker isn't so quick?"

"Non," she said, giving me a smile. "He might be particularly barbed with his words, but his wits are mired and slow."

"I guess we really do have advantages and disadvantages," I said, remembering Walsh's advice on the matter. "How fast can a person with celerity move?"

"The upper speeds of Celerity defy comprehension," she told me and I raised an eyebrow. "You have seen the old movies of vampires, correct?"

"Yes, but I've been told that a lot of it is bull," I told her and she chuckled. "Gangrel might turn into bats and Ventrue might have the ability to dominate minds, but the rest of it is Hollywood myth."

"Not so, young one," she said, chuckling again. "My sire told me if I lived long enough, one can walk the ceilings of the Sistine Chapel as if they were the floor."

"You mean defy gravity?" I said, appalled.

"It is not so easy to obtain," she said, shaking her head. "Almost all kindred powers are based in normal components. Too be fast with celerity, one must be quick witted. Too gain powers of fortitude, one must not let things bother them."

"And to gain powers of dominate?" I asked her, hoping she would be forthcoming.

"One must expect one's word to be followed," she said, giving me the answer.

"Interesting," I said, nodding my head at the information. "I guess improving oneself as a kindred really does have benefits later."

"Oui, all things come to those who improve themselves," she said, smiling at me. "If you want, I will arrange for Barker to set up a long term lease for the property and you can meet with me tomorrow to sign paperwork."

"Thank you," I said, standing from the piano bench and pushing it back in its spot."I'll head over to Damsel's and meet with her and settle that boon."

"She will enjoy not having to worry over it," Michele assured me as she stood with me. "Do you need to feed again before you leave?"

"It wouldn't hurt," I said, knowing I was about to be using my powers for travel and didn't want to run low and hurt someone. Maybe getting a car wouldn't hurt. At least then my ghouls could handle driving it.

"Remy!" Michele called, and the ghoul hustled into the room in a few moments. "Apporte-moi du sang a boire."

"Oui, madem," she said then left us.

"Mind answering a question?" I said, and she nodded her head. "Why do you not seem to shun my feeding from you like most of the others seem to. Eloise told me that there was something about it that made kindred hate it, but beside diablerie, or what it really is, I don't know."

"Diablerie in and of itself is the problem," she told me. "Drinking from another kindred carries the same problem as the kine drinking from us, but if you drank a kindred past them losing all their blood, not only does it kill them, but it give you their essence and power."

"You mean you can bind a kindred under your blood?" I asked and she nodded gravely.

"It won't work on you, as you are Methuselah, but if you were to make me drink of your blood, I would become, in essence, your ghoul," she told me. "I also know I don't have to worry about you stealing my powers, as your are powerful already, but lesser kindred often diablerize or attempt to diablerize older kindred to gain more power for themselves."

"So, does it work only on your own clan?" I asked and she shook her head.

"If, for instance, I were to diablerize Lacroix I would gain his Ventrue abilities," she said and I was shocked. No wonder Eloise didn't like people letting people near her neck. "If I could distance myself from art long enough, I might even make people believe I were Ventrue."

"So, if someone were to diablerize me, they'd get my powers," I said and she nodded slowly, letting it sink in. It did, and I silently vowed from now on my room's door would be locked from the inside from now on and not even my ghouls would be allowed in. Maybe I should look into a safe room with no doors, just an air vent.

"They also lower their generation if the person they diablerized was of a lower generation," she informed me, pulling me out of my own thoughts. "For example, I could become even more powerful if I were to diablerize you. But because of your extremely low generation, I run the risk of you taking over my body."

"I know what that's like," I said sourly and Michele looked at me with a serious expression. "The reason I'm a Methuselah is that Lasombra tried to rise from the Void through me. Apparently my body 'adjusted' to suit him and his third generation needs, but I've since kicked him out. I'm now a fourth generation kindred."

"Fourth generation?" she said, her mouth agape. "I did not think you had dropped to such a low level."

"Thank Lucian for it," I said bitterly. "It sure does make it hard to feed. I guess if I had come to it naturally, I would have a flock of kindred around me to feed from."

"Possibly," she said, as Remy entered the room with the pitcher of blood. "If you had survived that long."

"There's an expiration date?" I asked her, watching as Remy poured a goblet full and handed to her mistress.

"There comes a time when a kindred either becomes weighted by the world, or loses themselves to the beast," she said, then drank deep from her goblet. "In usual fair, about four or five hundred years is ancient, even to us, though some do become older. Many are killed do to political power struggles, accidents, hunters, or they just lose themselves to their own beast. Many things weigh on our minds in the Final Nights.

"Now, if you are ready to drink?" Michele said, pulling her hair out of the way as she undid the high collar around her neck, allowing the beaded garment to fall forward revealing her chest. She didn't try to cover herself, but leaned her head over to reveal her bare neck.

I moved forward, noting Remy stood still with the tray containing the pitcher of blood and her eyes on the floor, as if she were ashamed to be here. I stepped into Michele's space, taking her in my arms with no space left between us. Michele stared at a spot behind me, and I licked her neck, following her jugular from her collar bone to her jaw. Blowing gently on the now wet spot, Michele gasped at the sensation before groaning in my ear.

Easing my fangs out, I slid them gently into her skin, my bite shallow to savor the heady flavor of her blood across my tongue as I fed. Each pull of her blood into my fangs made her gasp, her body bucking against mine in time with my feeding. I continued to pull on her blood, and her gasps had to be audible to Remy as she seemed to start hyperventilating.

Finally feeling sated, I pulled my fangs from Michele, holding the woman as she regained her bearings. When she finally turned to Remy, she picked the pitcher up with both hands and drank from it, only setting it down after sating herself. Remy never looked up, keeping her head down and silently walking out with the empty pitcher.

"Such an intense feeling," she said as she began to straighten herself and put her high collar around her neck, hiding her bare bosom from view. "It is, maybe, another reason I allow you to feed from neck. It is one of the few feelings of ecstasy a kindred can enjoy."

"I thank you for the meal," I said, smiling at her, feeling the power flowing in my veins.

"You are most welcome," she said, smiling back at me.

"Well, I must go," I said, thinking I had other places to be. I needed to head to Walsh's office and see him and Mueller. I also needed to check in on Yukie, see if she were out of surgery yet but knew that wouldn't likely happen for hours yet, and see my own ghouls and let them know the Sabbat might be around, though I doubted they'd want another taste so soon after a staggering loss.

"Safe travels then," she said, smiling even as I stepped into the shadow and out in Lacroix's tower. I didn't have to worry about people here seeing me, as people here were under the control of kindred and knew about us already.

I used my phone to check the time, finding it was almost five, so I headed straight for his office, but the door was closed. I waited outside for several minutes, finally pulling out my phone again to check the time. After ten minutes of waiting, the door finally opened and a rather voluptuous kine woman in a 19th century dress stepped out, holding a parasol. She gave me a smile and a nod, before sashaying down the hall to the elevator, and I went into the office to find Walsh tying his tie.

"Ah, Miss Flores," he said, putting his golden tie tack in place. "You are just in time."

"I was expecting Herr Mueller to be here," I said as Walsh turned and got his suit coat.

"I'm afraid I couldn't arrange an actual meeting," he said apologetically as he tugged on his coat. "So we're going to crash his business meeting just as they are wrapping up to corral him."

"Sounds like fun," I said, stepping back to let him lead the way. "Where do we have to go to meet him?"

"Up one floor," he said, leading the way back to the elevator. "Many kindred, especially my fellow Ventrue, rent rooms in the tower to either operate their businesses out of or for their personal security."

"Because if you have a business in a high rise, you've arrived," I said acerbically as we waited for the elevator.

"In a sense," he said, buttoning his suit up and straightening his tie. "It also lends credibility to why the boss isn't in, for who can expect a multi-million dollar CEO to not be a bit eccentric."

"Which in turn helps the masquerade," I said, getting a nod of appreciation from Walsh. "And since this is Camarilla headquarters, the Sabbat aren't ever likely to raid here."

"It would be suicide," he assured me. "Only kindred are allowed past this floor unless they are scheduled to be here, so it's very secure."

"And the woman who left your office?" I asked, not wanting to be nosy but wanting to know who the woman was. A smile quirked Walsh's lips, and he gave me a slight chuckle.

"That was Miss Madison," he said with a wry chuckle as we went into the elevator. "As a Ventrue, I have select tastes, but those tastes often reflect the life I led while alive. Unfortunately, since I am what my clan calls low-born, my tastes run in the same way."

"In other words, you enjoyed the floozies spread legs when alive and now you want their blood in death," I surmised for him.

"Correct," he said simply, shaking his bowed head as if in reproach. I didn't get it though, if he had to have their blood to survive, why the shame now?

"We all have our preferences, Walsh," I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder in support. "Don't be ashamed of yours."

"It's why I keep my offices on the bottom floor with the ghouls," he said as the doors opened up. "The fewer people that know when my 'dates' come and go the easier my nights become."

As we stepped out, I noticed there weren't any guards on the elevator doors as there were on other floors. "So no, guards here?" I asked him.

"Only on the bottom most elevator and the entrance to the Prince's office," he assured me. "I don't provide the security here, Herr Mueller does."

"It seems like he has his own army," I noted as we moved down the hall.

"Over a hundred and fifty ghouls," he said with a wry chuckle. "He once told me that if he learned anything of World War Two was that the man with the larger army often wins. So he built his own special forces operation."

"Why not just a general army?" I asked him.

"He has that too, but they don't partake of his blood," he said as we stopped outside a door before he checked his watch. "From what I gather, he takes only the best for his special forces unit and the rest go on to work at his security firm. They provide all sorts of security, and they are considered the best in their field. Now he wants to move into the legitimate mercenary work being provided by the US government."

"And you are trying to get it for yourself?" I said, and again he chuckled.

"I am trying," he said as we waited. "Right now it comes down to a matter of money to grease the gears of bureaucracy, but I can't match him dollar for dollar."

"But if I take all of his money, you can outdo him," I said, getting the whole picture. "I will definitely try."

"And I can finally prove to the clan I can operate as a true leader and not this wet work I get stuck with," he said sourly, just as the door opened and men in suits began to pour out. Some nodded or said their 'hellos' to Walsh as they went by, but most of them gave me a wide berth as they went down the hall. When the last one filed out, Walsh walked into the room. "Herr Mueller, we need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," he groused as I walked in to see him filing his paperwork into a briefcase.

"You placed a boon on a bet and lost," he said, his tone more serious than I've ever heard it. "I'm here to see that you and Miss Flores come to arrangement to settle that boon, tonight."

"She is a Lasombra!" he roared at Walsh, but Walsh let it slide off his back. "I will owe no boons to such common trash."

"You will, Herr Mueller," Walsh said, his voice deepening, "Or you will find yourself at your own trial."

"On what authority," Mueller scoffed at him. "I can buy you a hundred times over, you waste of blood."

"I am still the Scourge," he said, somehow making it a threat as he advanced on Walsh, then reached into his jacket pocket to pull out a stake to make the threat serious. "You will settle your debt, or under the traditions of Prestation in the Camarilla, I will bring you before the prince for failure to honor your sworn debt."

"It isn't enough to have me killed!" he roared.

"But I can have you expelled from the city in disgrace," Walsh roared back, and shock coated Mueller's face. "After that, no one will accept a boon debt from you, you'll be ruined."

Mueller seemed to deflate at that, before sighing and accepting defeat. "What does she ask?"

"Money," Walsh said simply, softening his voice and stowing away the stake now that the situation was over.

"Of money, I have," he said, smiling.

"Five hundred million," I said, wiping the smile off Mueller's face.

"Fünfhundert Millionen!" he exclaimed in what I assumed was German. "Warum fragt sie nicht einfach nach meinen Herz auf einem Silbertablett!?"

"Because she asks for money, not your heart on a silver platter," Walsh said as he indirectly translated for me.

"That would wipe out my finances, ruin me!" he exclaimed, then his face lit up in understanding. "You put her up to this so you could try to get one over on me!"

"She was asking for money, and only money, ever since she learned she had a boon from you," Walsh said, trying to calm the situation down.

"I will give him one other option to pay," I said, moving forward as Mueller eyed me as if I were a snake. "The next time a primogen calls a vote on whether I should be added to the council or not, you must vote yes."

What followed from Herr Mueller was a violent string of German that made Walsh shake his head grimly. "Your choice, Herr Mueller," he finally said when the irate kindred finally settled down a bit. "Money, or you vote yes. And remember, if I ever hear you failed to vote appropriately, you will be called to Trial."

Mueller stared murder holes into me, before finally pulling out a thin leather checkbook from his inner jacket pocket and wrote out a check, all the while muttering what I figured were unsavory things about me, my mother, and all my ancestors. When he finished writing and tore it from his checkbook, he didn't even hand it to me, just tossed it towards me with anger evident on his face.

"You have made a dire enemy this day, Lasombra," he said, before stomping out the door with the dignity of a mad bull. I held the check, arranged it to be readable, seeing the full five hundred million wrote out to me.

"You can expect no political help from that man for the rest of his days," Walsh said softly, a smile full on his lips. "I've never seen a kindred so agitated."

"Do you think he'll try to have me killed?" I asked, suddenly wondering if I had doomed myself by resolving this debt.

"If he does, either by his own hand or that of his ghouls, just get to me," Walsh said with a smile. "The sixth Tradition means that outside of a blood hunt, any direct attempt by him on your life seals his fate with a Trial."

"But what if he tells hunters where I live?" I asked and Walsh frowned at that. "Does that get included in the Traditions?"

"It can, if the prince allows it," he said and I frowned myself. In other words, I really had to stay in the prince's good graces now or my next move had to be to kill Mueller before he could kill me.

"Well, Scourge Walsh," I said, handing the check to him. "Will you see that this gets deposited into my account?"

"Certainly," he said, taking the check from my hand and putting it into his jacket pocket. "As I am sure you have much to do, and I still have one last thing to do on this floor, I bid you goodnight."

"Good night, Walsh," I said, as he walked out the door.

With nothing left to do, I went back to the elevator, having to wait since it seemed Mueller rode it down. When it came back up, I rode it down to the upper lobby and stepped out. The moment I cleared the doors, a hand snatched my glasses off and I was looking directly into Mueller's eyes.

"You will give me a check for all of your money and say you have invested in my businesses," he said, and I felt something like a wave wash over my brain. Realizing he had just tried to dominate me, I began laughing.

"What is this?" he said, and I finally looked at him.

"Poor fool," I said, then shoved my will into his mind, making his face go slack. "You will walk around this lobby, until sunrise, and cluck like a chicken," I said and he nodded and began to follow my mental command.

"Hey you can't-" one of the guards began to say, when I hit him and pulled his goggles down to look into his eyes. I no sooner had the guard under my will when I heard the safety click off on the other gun.

"Release them," he said, his gun aimed at me. Even though he had tinted goggles on, I pushed my will into him, making him fall under my control.

"You two men will guard this lobby and corral Herr Mueller into staying within it," I said and the nodded their acceptance. "Furthermore, when Walsh comes back you will report that Herr Mueller tried to use dominate to steal back his money, and that I protected myself from attack."

Again the two nodded, and I released them, with the one whose goggles I had dislodged straightening them on his face before they resumed their post. Herr Mueller took no notice of me, just walked by and clucking, and I took the other elevator down while calling for a cab. It wasn't long in getting there, and I rode it home, not wanting to waste any of the blood Michele was feeding me when I had plenty of time to get home.

When I did, I found the house was just waking up for the day. Constance was walking down the stairs, leaving her full backpack by the door. She noticed me and smiled before coming over and give me a big hug.

"Hey, didn't think you'd be home so early," she said after release me.

"Just wrapping things up," I said, my presence somehow pulling Brian and Heather to me now that I was home. Brian had the Uzi tucked into his waste band, and I gave him an approving nod. "Keep that gun handy, Brian. I've already survived one attack on the Sabbat today."

"Wish I had been there," Brian said, fingering the Uzi.

"I could have used you," I told him, wondering how much difference his presence would have made in the fight. A big one, I had to figure, as he would have been armed. Duke and Yukie had started the fight barehanded.

"Anyone hurt?" Heather asked, arms wrapped around her middle as if she were scared.

I hung my head and nodded, making Heather and Constance gasp, though Brian let out a growl of disgust. "Duke over at Four-Play was killed," I told them, "And Yukie was shot twice, one of those in the chest. She's in surgery now."

"Oh my god," Heather said, shrinking back a step. "That poor girl. Will she survive?"

"Yeah," I assured her, moving over to give Heather a hug. "She took my blood a second time, so she'll survive, but the bullet needs to come out so it doesn't do more damage."

"I guess that makes sense," she said, somewhat comforted by what I told her.

"How did the club make out," Brian asked with what seemed like real concern though I knew he was just interested in the girls.

"Total loss," I said, and his face twisted into a growl. "The girls and patrons got out safely, including Angel and Sharron, but the place burned to the ground. I'm going to rebuild, already got a line on a replacement site."

"Can we talk about something happier," Constance said, as we all began to drift into the kitchen where food was being cooked for everyone's breakfast.

"Well, I did increase my bank account by five hundred million dollars," I said to everyone's astonishment.

"What did you do to get that kind of cash?" Brian asked a wicked grin on his face. "What I could do with a percentage of that."

"Made a forever enemy in a fellow kindred," I told him, sobering him up. "And since we can't kill each other, it really is forever."

"That's sad," Heather said, and then a thought occurred to me.

"Oh, hey," I said, getting Heather's attention. "I have to go to a fancy party this Friday night, and was wondering if you could get me something to look nice in."

"You want me to buy it or make it?" Heather asked, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Ladies choice," I said, making her squeal in excitement. "It'll be a high society event, mostly rich humans, so the nicer the better."

"I'll get it sorted it out," she said happily. "Taking any guns with you?"

"No," I said, thinking that if they checked me and found guns, I was still a cooked bird. "I'm going in clean. Nothing on me that could be considered a weapon."

"Alright, I'll get it set up for you," Heather said.

We continued to talk the morning away, and I sat at the table with my ghouls watching them eat. Part of me missed the normalcy of this, and I could only hope that as my life became more simple as time went on, I could enjoy it more.

As the sun came up, though, I bid my ghouls a good day, then headed down stairs and got ready for bed. Leaving my dirty clothes in a basket outside of my door for Heather to clean during the day, I pulled the painting closed and locked the door, sealing myself inside.

I was just about to crawl into bed and allow myself the chance to rest when my phone rang. When I answered it, the background noise was atrocious, but the man's deep voice was clearly hearable.

"Miss Flores?" it asked, and I recognized it as Doctor Brackett.

"Yes, doctor," I said, wondering how Yukie had fared in her accident.

"We just got Miss Arita out of surgery," he said, making me wonder whom he was talking about until I realized it was likely Yukie's last name.

"How is she doing?" I asked, knowing she was likely ready to come home already.

"She's recovering," he said, his voice tired though I couldn't blame him for the lateness of the hour, even for an all night worker. "The bullet just barely nicked the lung and stopped right at the heart sack. A few more millimeters deeper and she'd have bled out before getting to the hospital."

"I'm glad to hear it, Doctor Brackett," I said, smiling to myself that Yukie would survive another near fatal attack. "When will she be released?"

"At least a few days," he told me. "We want to be sure she's not going to have any other problems before we release her."

"I understand, doctor," I said, knowing that in that short amount of time Yukie would be almost fully healed. "I'll be by later to see her for myself, probably in the evening so she can get some rest."

"That'd be for the best," he said, and I could hear a voice calling for him. "I gotta go, thanks for being there for your friend."

"You welcome, doctor," I told him, and the line went dead.

Placing the phone on my dresser, I lay out in my bed, and allowed the darkness to have me.

* * *

 **Author's Note: And so we have another chapter. Glad to have it out so fast, and I can only hope the trend continues.**

 **Love it, hate it, want me to burn and die? I won't know if you don't review!**

 ***looks at what I have for the next chapter, begins digging a grave***

 **Here Lies**

 **Raider Wolf**

 **Born-1984**

 **Death-?**

 **I can haz your soul?**

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 **Edit: 5/20/2018 - Fixed some mistakes. Thanks to Darkladyvanstar, DuckedHard, and Doctor Winter for the help and the concern on the German language.  
**


	45. Chapter 45 - Sabbat's Revenge

**Author's Note: *peaks out from hole* I warned you! This chapter is not for the faint hearted!**

 _ **Your Feels**_

 _ **Born ?**_

 _ **Died - Today**_

 _ **"Your soul is mine!" - Shao Khan**  
_

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Chapter 45 – Sabbat's Revenge

October 6, 2004 = Wednesday

~Eliza Flores~

When I awoke, I shadow-stepped up to the master bath to take my customary shower while listening to Metallica at full volume. I didn't know which of my ghouls or 'pets' had the heavy metal band playing, but that CD was about to get a daylight restriction, as in ' _play it only when I'm asleep_.'

Of course, they might not know I was awake yet, having not shown myself, so I figured I'd go easy on them when I saw them. Still, as the songs played, I washed and dried myself before stepping down into the solitude and quietness of my bedroom. Since I had locked myself in, no one was waiting for me or had any clothes laid out, so I went about dressing myself which caused me more consternation. I was meeting the girls from Four-Play, and wanted to fit in with them.

To that degree, I decided to dress in the way Sharron did, putting on tight, low fitting leather pants, and one of the more revealing leather crop tops I found in the far corners of my wardrobe. For shoes, I halted at my choices, before finally donning a pair of high heeled T-backs with about four inches to them. They had a broad heel under them, not the spiky things most women wore when they tried to be sexy, and I figured if I were going to try to be a strip club owner, might as well start training for the part when I was at the club.

It was with that thought that I stood and headed over to put on my pistol. Threading my belt through the loops, I thought about the Sabbat attack last night and that I really needed to be better equipped for a fight. Moving back to my wardrobe, I pulled out my messenger bag dumping everything out on the bed to sorted through.

First thing I put back in it was the Kalashnikov with its spare clip, both were full of ammo. The flamethrower was next, in case I met another Gangrel who was hip with his fortitude powers. I tucked an Uzi into a large side pocket, along with a few spare clips that were fully loaded. The last weapon I packed was the shotgun on a cord under my armpit after slipping it on like a purse strap, then hid it all by putting on my coat and buttoning it up.

I also put a double handful of checks in a pocket, along with several boxes of shells for the various weapons. I was starting to get better with identifying their caliber, and therefore their application, but sealed each pocket with a completely different type to be sure I didn't crossload something. I also packed the shades Duke had given me, in case I lost or damaged mine.

Checking to make sure my phone was in my pocket and my katana was in its place, I moved to the door, slipping my messenger bag over my shoulder as I walked. I might be loaded for bear, but after going hand to hand with a Gangrel and winning only on a technicality because I burned him in his own funeral pyre, I wanted a little insurance if it happened again.

After stopping at the door to put on my glasses, I raised a hand to unlock it before getting a sense of dread. Did I really want to unlock the door, letting who knew into my private room? What Michele told me about diablerie and Eloise had about domination had me a bit paranoid, but I still hesitated. Did I want to risk that?

Shaking my head, I decided it wasn't worth the risk and formed into mist, ghosting through the cracks in the door to the other side. When I was there, I reformed and nearly had a panic attack at seeing several large black drums stacked in the center of the room, wires and electronics hooked into them.

I quickly rushed up the stairs to get the story from my ghouls but the moment I hit the top of the stairs, I slid to a stop. My magical painting had knives all over it. I inched closer, finding more barrels in the master suite and in the dining hall. When I looked into the Great Room, getting a closer look at my painting, there were kitchen knives and bullet holes all through it, and was shocked to see her suddenly drop her paints and moon the world with my ass. She smacked it once or twice, then a sudden thomp as a knife appeared next to it. She turned, flipping someone off before noticing me. She began to make wild gestures, as if telling me to run, but I pulled my shotgun out and came forward, looking around and not seeing anyone. A slight chuckle above me made me raise my head, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

"Looky looky what we got here," Celeste called down, Metallica suddenly going silent in the room as the radio clicked off. I didn't see a remote in her hand, so I suddenly got nervous about a second person being in the room and glanced around, my shotgun remaining on Celeste.

"Oh don't worry," she said, bringing my attention back to her. "We're quite alone here. Just you, me and what remains of your ghouls."

"What did you do, Celeste," I said, wanting to know and wanting to bust a cap in her face.

"Not so much me but the people I run with now," she said, her gaze going to something in front of me. I looked, seeing three covered trays there. I looked up to see her eyeing me, then she gave me a wicked smile. "Go on, take a look at what's left of your friends."

I inched forward, lifting the cover off one to see a plate there containing a pair of eyes and a tongue. I quickly threw the other two covers off, finding two more sets of eyes and tongues.

"Like it?" she said, smiling evilly at me. "Sabbat trick to keep prisoners from running away or getting help."

"It's sick," I told her and she shook her head.

"Come with me now, and you can have the other three back, unharmed," she said, her face serious.

"And if I don't?" I asked her, and she raised her hand showing me an electronic switch. My mind made the connection from watching movies, and I had chills on chills running a marathon up and down my spine.

"Only chance," she said. "You have no power to get out of this, no celerity, no teleportation, no fortitude. I release this and that room you're in will flood you in fire before you can blink."

"You underestimate me," I told her, making her blink. I didn't want to open fire, because I needed to jump out before she release that trigger, but I didn't want to let her release it before I jumped either. We were at an impasse.

"Fine, I'll torture you're little friends," she said, smiling again, figuring she had me at her mercy.

"Only three people live in this house with me," I told her, her smile never fading. "You wouldn't know where to find my other ghouls."

"Thank Strauss for that trick," she said, smiling at me. "My familiar has been stealing books from the chantry ever since I was forced to leave."

"Why do you need books?" I asked her, not getting it. "I can remember every road sign between here and the tower."

"But I'm Tremere," she said as if that made all the difference in the world. "Sorry, I forget you're a rookie. See, we Tremere don't have the infallible memory like the rest of the kindred. It's our curse, like you can't see yourself in a mirror. I actually have to have the book to make sure I get the spell right because my brain won't remember it all. It gets fuzzy if I don't constantly remind myself.

"So, ghouls," she said as we continued our impasse. "I have to say, you have good tastes. I expected a couple of homely things and not top class meat. And that chick that came just before sundown, it's a crying shame she'll wind up as gristle for the next batch."

To say I was pissed wasn't even putting it mildy. I was so far past pissed it wasn't even on the map. My finger tightened on the trigger and I let loose a round out of the shotgun, catching her on the shoulder and making her fall back. I began to rack the shotgun when she threw something over the rail, and with a shock I realized it was the trigger.

I stepped into the shadows just as the barrels blew. I didn't have much on my mind, except to get outside, so I ended up on the front lawn as wood and debris rained down around me. I turned back to see the fireball over my house, and I couldn't help but feel betrayed. Everything that was my human life had been in that house. Save what I was wearing and what I was carrying, it was all gone.

With a snarl, I stood and put the shotgun back under my arm and buttoned up my coat. I had to know whom all Celeste had, my first clue was Sammie's car parked in my drive, half crushed under a piece of my mansion. Anger began to cloud my good senses, but I forced myself to be calm. I couldn't help anyone if I rushed in guns blazing only to get caught in a fire bomb.

I moved to Sammie's car, if only to confirm she wasn't in it and scared out of her mind over my house blowing up. I looked through the busted window, finding the front of the car empty. I was about to pull my head out when I noticed a rosary on the floor of the car. Picking it up, I found it was mine, and until the rear-view mirror had fallen off when the car was crushed, had hung on it. I pocketed it in my messenger bag, then began walking down my driveway, pulling my phone to talk to Walsh.

"Walsh's office," Rochelle's voice said.

"Where's Walsh?" I asked the ghoul, trying to keep my voice calm.

"He hasn't come into the office yet," she told me. "Do I need to take a message?"

"Yes," I said, then looked back to my ruined mansion. "The Pryce estate I was buying from Walsh just went up in a fireball."

"Oh, I loved that place," she said with a whine. "What happened to it?"

"Celeste joined the Sabbat, and she was waiting for me when I woke up," I said, and I heard the sharp intake of breath. "They rigged my house to explode."

"Well, good news for you is we have insurance on the loan in case the property were damaged by tsunami," she said absentmindedly as she processed everything. "In this case, I'm sure we can push it to cover a gas leak. Any deaths?"

"None that were inside the house," I told her, hearing her sigh of relief. "Celeste kidnapped all my ghouls though. I was shown the eyes and tongues of three."

"That's just gross," she said disgustingly. "I'll let Walsh know when he gets in, and I'll get the paperwork processed. Please be in about midnight to sign off on it, if you would, ma'am."

"Sure, Rochelle," I said, and the line went dead. The need to figure which of my ghouls were still alive again filled me, and my brain worked on it. Yukie was most likely to still be alive, unless she slipped out of the hospital without anyone knowing. It wasn't likely so I jumped there, coming out on an empty sidewalk before going into the ER.

"Can I help you?" a dirty blonde haired nurse said from behind a counter.

"My friend came in this morning with two gunshot wounds," I told her as I leaned on the counter. "Her name is Yukie Arita."

"I'm afraid I can't reveal that information due to HIPAA," she said, then I lowered my sunglasses and cast dominate on her.

"Ah, yes," she said, as she looked it up on the computer. "Miss Arita is in room four-nine-five. There is a medical hold though, so we can't let you up to see her."

"What happened?" I asked, and she tapped on some keys to look at something.

"She apparently suffered some kind of psychotic episode at two this evening," the nurse said. "The doctor on duty had to pump her full of tranquilizer to calm her down and now she's on life support."

I nodded, knowing that my blood had probably made her initially resistant to the drugs so the doctor had given her more. The problem was, any form of tranquilizer didn't just make you sleepy, it slowed your whole body down making your mind think it was time to sleep. If you slowed it down too much, your heart could stop. Thankfully, the doctor had caught it as it happened, and Yukie would be alright in the long run, but out of it for the time being.

"Thank you, Miss McCall," I said, getting her name off her name tag. "Have a good evening."

"You too, ma'am," she said as I walked away, somewhat relieved. Yukie was alive, and soon, would be back on her feet.

I called a cab on my phone, and took it straight to Confessions and walked in, finding the place had ten or so people in it. I didn't see Venus, so I walked to the bar and flagged the bartender down. When he came over, it was the one with a neck brace and he seemed happy to see me.

"Hey, you're the girl the boss partnered with right?" he asked me.

"Yes I am," I said, smiling at him to keep him talking.

"I gotta call from Venus," he said, fishing a yellow post-it note from his pocket and setting it in front of me. "She needs you post her bail."

"What happened?" I asked him and he frowned.

"She's apparently not that good a driver and ran a red light, then tried to flee when a cop went to pull her over," he told me, and I lowered my head in relief. Venus was alive, if in jail. My mind went to my last two free ghouls, and knew she had to have both of them. Sharron and Angel had to be the hotties she was referring to, and I could have cried for their loss.

I picked up the post it note, finding it had a woman's name on it; Jeri Croft. "This Venus's real name?"

"It was, or is," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "She's trying to change it. Don't know how far she got."

"Thanks," I said, then looked around. "Can you run things here while I get her out?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling for me. "Tonight we're just playing a local station, not much going on since we couldn't get anyone worth a damn."

"Well, keep it going and Venus will back soon," I assured him. "Be back later."

"Later, gorgeous," he said as I walked out the door.

I got back in my cab, and had him head for Arthur's Bail Bonds in Santa Monica. I didn't know much about bonds, but I at least knew he was open twenty-four-seven. Indeed, the neon lights outside were blazing brightly when we pulled up, and I went in to see Arthur sipping coffee from a stained cup.

"Welcome to Kilpatrick Twenty-four Hour Bail Bonds," he said in a well rehearsed tone. "My name's Arthur, how can I help you?"

"I need to bail my friend out of jail," I said, trying to emulate the way a college girl would act when bailing a drunk friend out of jail.

"We can help you with that," he said, pulling a sheet out and grabbing a pen from a cracked coffee cup. "What's she in for?"

"I don't know all of it, but she said she ran a red light and then they said she tried to run from the cops, so they arrested her," I said, making my voice sound as if distraught. Arthur seemed to accept, his head bobbing as he wrote.

"Sounds serious," he said when he finished writing. "I'll have to call down to the police station and get the full list and see if she's even eligible for bail. Sometimes they don't if the person flees."

"Will it take long?" I asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Can't say," he said as he turned to face me. "If she does qualify, bail could be a million," he said and my mouth fell open in real shock. I was supposed to pay that much? "Not that you'll pay that, I will if she doesn't make her court appearance."

"Oh, I assure you she'll have the best lawyer I can get when she goes to court," I said, smiling that I wasn't going to lose Venus to the court system. I didn't have Sammie to go over things with, and I really could use her help right now. "I'm afraid I'm all new to this, so what do you need from me?"

"Well, I usually ask about ten percent of the bail, and you'll have to know where to find your friend as much as possible. They can't leave the area, will need to surrender any passport they have to me and weapons they may have will need to find new homes with me or other friends for the duration of her bail. I can keep her out until she's declared guilty or not guilty, but the money you put down tonight you never get back."

"That sounds reasonable," I said, smiling again at the stream-lined process they had. "But you have to find out which jail she's in first, don't you?"

"She didn't happen to say, did she?" he asked me and I shook my head no. "Her name?"

"She uses Venus Dare as a working name, and she's trying to change her name to it," I said and he wrote it down. "Her real name is Jeri Croft, in case she hasn't filed all the paperwork yet."

"I see," he said, then looked back to me. "Can I get your name and a phone number I can reach you at? I know you probably have, uh, things to do," he said, taking another look at me

"I'm Elisa Flores," I said, then gave him my phone number.

"Got a working name you use in case I need to find you the hard way?" he said, and my eyebrows went up at that.

"I used Vixen when I was at Four-Play," I said, thinking of my one hour stint as a clerk for the club.

"Yeah, I heard the place got burned down in some gang war," he said, shaking his head. "And if need be, I can bail you out if they cops ever bust you. They got this down to an art. Two thousand dollars unless they plan to add loitering charges."

"For?" I said, and he gave me a funny look, before covering his mouth.

"Prostitution," he said simply. "I know what Four-Play was known for, but Duke had everyone paid off so they didn't mess with his operation."

"Yeah, I know about the couch," I said, feeling sad about what I let him get away with.

"So, what you do for work now?"

The question caught me a bit off guard, but to buy time as I thought I gave him a shrug. "Whatever I can get away with," I said, not sure I was anything anymore. "I'm thinking about getting the girls at Four-Play back together and start a new club."

"That'd be nice," he said as he sipped his coffee. "I used to go in there, from time to time, but never had the money to go upstairs. But you be careful about working around here."

"What do you mean?" I asked him, and he showed me the paper.

"We got this slasher going around, hung this guy up from a lamp post and ripped his guts out and left him to die," he said, and I felt the butterflies take off in my stomach when I looked at the picture. "Also, some girls have been complaining about being robbed in the area by their johns," he told me. "I wouldn't know about it if I hadn't overheard some girls talking about it at the diner."

I nodded my head, taking a second look at my clothes. My need to fit in with the girls at Four-Play had me in tight, revealing leather and heels, and the only thing that would scream hooker even louder would be if I wore a leather mini, my serious packing of heat not-withstanding. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea, but it did give me ideas on how to keep the masquerade in the meantime.

"You, uh, wouldn't know any good places?" I asked him, leaning in close so he could see down the top of my coat to my ladies. Arthur leaned in close, taking a good look before looking me in the eyes.

"Down by the pawnshop, just down the street from the clinic, is a lamp post lots of girls hang out under," he told me, and I smiled because I had done lots of hunting there, myself. "There's also a convenience store, about two blocks south of here that has outside restrooms, but the place closes up sharp at five in the evening, so no one to complain and a private spot to work."

"Voice of experience?" I said, and he smiled at me.

"Be surprised how many hookers I get in this line of work," he said with a smile. "The bonds low, but half these girls can't break twenty bucks because they spend it all on drugs. I get them out, let them work what they can, and they often tell me where to find them so I don't have to lock them up for not checking in."

"Don't they try to run?" I asked and he shook his head.

"No where to go, no money to get there, and worst of all, they need their fix too bad to risk it," he said, leaning back into his chair. "They work, do what they can, but in the end they'll make their court appearance and often get off with community service or a few weeks in jail."

"Nice to know what to look forward to," I said, then looked back at the paper he had filled out. "I'll be around if you can get her out."

"Sure, might take an hour before I know anything," he said, and I straightened up, and half turned around.

"I'll be waiting," I said, then let my hips sway as I walked out the door. My cab was still waiting for me, and I got in and had him head for Duke's motel where I would meet everyone. I didn't have the cab wait since I didn't know how long I'd be, but looking around, decided that first things were first, and walked to the office.

"Night, week or month?" the older guy asked when I stepped into the office. He got up from where he was watching TV, and I saw he was dressed in a gray T-shirt and black khaki shorts, and I had to peg him for being in his fifties. He stooped a bit, probably from being a fighter for most of his life, but carried himself well.

"I'm Duke's partner," I said, and the guy straightened up a bit taller. "I see he's mentioned me."

"Yeah," the guy said, smiling at me. "He also said your word was next to God around here. Were you there when he got filled full of holes?"

"I was," I told him, setting my face.

"Did you even do anything?" he said, and I could see the anger in his eyes. I unsnapped the buttons on my coat, revealing the shotgun I carried, then reached behind my back and pulled my Glock out far enough to let him see it.

"Duke's own fault for coming to a gun fight unprepared," I said, putting the Glock back in its holster. "I'll be settling the legal matters for ownership soon, so until then, any problems continuing to work for me?"

"Not a bit," he said, his face lacking any real expression since showing my guns. It pegged him as a fighter, probably a former bouncer at Four-Play.

"I take it you were one of the bouncers at Four-Play?" I guessed as I asked him and he nodded.

"One of the originals back when he had first got the property," he said, leaning on the counter with his arms crossed. "I helped Duke start the club, often running triple duty as bouncer, door man, and disc jockey. He put me over here when I started to get too stove up to keep knocking heads."

"Must have been a let down for you, considering what went on behind closed doors," I said, fishing for information that he knew what was going on there and what might be going on here.

"Was never a fan of that," he said, hanging his head. "I'm supposed to carry that over here, he lets me know who and I'm supposed to, well you get the idea."

"So you let them off scot-free?" I asked and he smiled. "We have a hundred and fifty rooms, and they don't clean themselves."

"So they clean rooms here?" I said, nodding my head. That would work. "I can get behind that."

"Good," he said, straightening up with a groan. "It just became official policy. Now if you just had the club for them to get indebted at."

"I'll be starting another club with the girls," I told him, making him smile. "They need to work in the meantime, so I'll ask for volunteers for you. Those that work will get paid, those that don't can wait till the club reopens. I imagine most will work, if only to make something."

"Sounds like you got it all figured out," he said, flexing his back. "Need anything else?"

"A room," I said, sighing. "My house was also hit by the same gang."

"Ouch," he said, then took a key card from a rack and began setting it up for me. "Top, middle or ground floor?"

"Whichever one can get me left alone," I said, thinking of Jean. "I won't need someone cleaning my room during the day, as that's when I sleep, so think you can arrange for it to be cleaned at night?"

"Eh, sure," he said, after thinking it over. "I've got you on a ground floor, round back. Just hang your card when your in and don't want to be disturbed, and use the privacy locks for extra precaution."

"Thanks, mister?" I prompted, when he handed me the card.

"Oh, Jimmie, Jimmie Briscoe," he said with a smile on his face.

"I'm Eliza Flores," I told him. "Now, I guess I better go face the girls."

"Best of luck," he said, grimacing before he turned back to the news. I was about to turn away when a girl's picture was flashed on the screen, and my heart sank.

It was Constance, her face bruised and covered with small cuts.

"A teenage girl was found dumped along Interstate Four-Oh-Five," the newscaster said. "Officials have yet to release an official cause of death, but an anonymous source at the coroner's office said it was likely due to the tongue being ripped out and the young victim drowned in her own blood. Officials ask anyone with information about the girl to come forward with any knowledge so they can bring the girl's killers to justice."

I turned away as he went on to the next story, almost stumbling my way out the door. Poor Constance didn't need her life cut short, and anger filled me at what the Sabbat had done. The only thing that kept me from jumping to Walsh's office right then was I came out the hallway to find my room I was swamped by the girls of Four-Play.

They were all dressed in bathing suits, some wet, and all had golden tans to attest what they'd been doing while waiting. Even the bouncers were lined up and shirtless, and I let my bad mood drift away while I dealt with this. They pulled me out to the pool area where they had a full party going on. I managed to get to my room long enough to shed my clothes and don a two piece bathing so the girls could get me a 'bottle' tan, laying on a towel in a chaise lounge as the rubbed the lotion into my light tone. I saw the coolers full of beer, whiskey bottles and other paraphernalia for mixing drinks, and figured they were having a full on blast.

"Alright, alright," I said, trying to be happy even though I was tore up inside. The lotion didn't seem to set well though, but finally rubbed in enough to get me back to looking more like my living self.

"Now that we have me tanned," I said and the girls cheered, "Let's get down to business. To those that don't know me, I'm Elisa."

"I'm Ruby," a young girl with bright red hair and white highlight said, dressed in a green and black two piece bathing suit.

"I'm Ella," another girl said, this one with golden hair and a pure black two piece bathing suit that barely contained her set of double 'D's.

"Stripperella," one of the brown haired girls snarked, making them all laugh. The girls then introduced themselves one by one, each one by their dancer name, or had to be their dancer name. If not, it was the oddest set of names I'd ever heard.

"Now, first question," I said, after the girls had finished. "Are those you real names?"

"No, they're our stage names," Ruby said brightly. "We don't use our real names around customers. It helps us from being stalked."

"That works," I said, and another girl, a platinum blonde with a set of real 'D's named Diamond spoke up.

"If you're going to lead the club, maybe you should have a stage name too," she said, sounding shy even though she at least had the confidence to speak up. "You'd be surprised at who might stalk you and how threatening they can be."

"I've only used Vixen at the club, and that was right before the fire happened," I said, not wanting to reveal the truth about what all had happened. "By the way, we seem to be two short. Angel and Amber?"

"Oh, they said they had to go somewhere at about two today," one of the brown haired girls whose name was Lacey said. "Don't know where, but they said it was important."

"Okay," I said, acting like I was writing it off but knowing they had to be coming to see me because of Constance's meddling. "Well, in the meantime, any ideas for a new club name since we'll be moving to a new location and starting over."

"How about the 'Foxhole,'" a girl named Saba said from the back with what had to be a triple 'H' boob job. "Kind of a play on your name Vixen, and the fact it will your place."

"I thought foxes lived in dens," a red haired girl in a string bikini called Scarlett said in her southern bell accent.

"It's a synonym," a Asian woman in a silvery blue one piece named Star said. "And depends on where you call home which one you use."

"Well, in the deep south, we called them dens," she groused. "Damn foxes were always getting in the chicken coup.

Another raven haired woman of Eastern European descent named Jade broke them up. "Settle down, you two, or I'll dump you both in the pool to cool off."

They did, and I had the feeling Jade probably would do it given the shade she was casting at the pair. I looked around at those gathered, and most of the group had their eyes on me, but I felt uneasy about how to proceed.

"Foxhole is an idea," I conceded, if only to say something. All the eyes on me had me nervous. "Any others?"

Several were offered, most variations on my chosen name, and the Hen House, offered by Tessa whose stage name was Gabriela. Eventually, one of the large guys in a Hawaiian shirt named Cable spoke up. "What about drinks? Most of the people that come are going to want mixed drinks. That means a bar, cooler and freezer," he said, naming them off on his fingers.

"Which we will get," I said, getting a cheer from the group.

"I don't want to be the Debby Downer of the group," Diamond said, leaning over to look at her sandals. "But how are you going to pay for all this? A new place, a hundred thousand in equipment alone, probably a remodel, signs," she said, then finally looked up. "It could take months to get the insurance from Duke's place."

"I don't need the money from Duke's place," I told them, smiling. "I'm wealthy enough on my own to afford it. Including keeping everyone paid and working until the new club is open," I said, making everyone cheer. "We do still have things to do, so bouncers, bartenders, are you ready to work?"

"Always," Cable said, his smile going across his face.

"Go to the club called Confessions in downtown LA," I told him. "Bring the rest of the guys with you. They need everything."

"Sweet," he said, fist bumping the guys with him.

"Any ladies that want to work there and help out with waitressing, cleaning up and keeping the party going, speak up now," I said, getting several volunteers, including Diamond.

"I would," Cherry groused, but shook her head sadly. "Not old enough yet to party with the big girls."

"That's fine," I said, and she looked up with a smile. "We also need to keep the motel clean, so anyone left over can get with Jimmy in the mornings to clean the rooms."

"What if there's not enough work to go around?" Star asked, moving closer.

"Just have Jimmie split the rooms among those that are willing," I said, figuring it was the fairest way. "Those that continue to work, get paid. Those that don't know the drill."

A general groan rose at that, and I held up my hands to quiet things down. "What happens when those that are working at Confessions are doing more work than at the motel?" Jade asked, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I can't stand around all day and night keeping track of who does what," I told the group. I looked at them, when an idea hit me. If it weren't for recent events, I might have enjoyed the idea, but I hesitated a moment before mentioning it. "How about one of you? Is there anyone you can all agree on to be fair and oversee things?"

They all looked at each other for a minute, before Saba spoke up. "How about Jade? She tends to control things and stop fights."

"Yeah, and she has her favorites and enemies, too," Star said.

"Do not," Jade said, cocking her nearly bare hip.

"Oh please," a red haired girl named Scarlett said, backing her friend up. "Everyone remember the chocolate cake incident?" Heads nodded all over, even from the guys, and Jade just shook her head.

"Fine," she groused, sitting down on a lounge chair. "Who's your pick?"

"I'd rather have Diamond do it," Scarlett said, and heads nodded. "She's a hard worker and has helped most of us avoid Duke, plus she's almost got her law degree."

"Really?" I asked and Diamond shrugged her shoulders.

"It's what I like doing," she said. "I want to finish my law degree and become a defense lawyer."

"Altruism doesn't line your pockets, sweetie," Scarlett said sympathetically.

"And dancing nude on people's laps is a life I can share with my kids?" she said, standing to face the redhead. How about you, Dallas? Going to share how mommy dances for a living with Timmy and Carrie?"

"Absolutely not," the woman I had talked with the night before said, going red-faced.

"What we do carries a stigma that we can't escape from," she said, and everyone seemed to cow down under her gaze. "So is it wrong for me to seek a way out? To tell my kids one day that I'm a good person, and have them emulate me as a lawyer rather than a floozy?"

"Hey!" Cherry said, smacking Diamond's shoulder. "Dancers aren't bad people!"

"But people lump us in with all the other undesirable trash of society," Diamond told the auburn haired youngster. "Why do you think strip clubs are categorized as a sex-oriented business?"

"Because you dance in the nude?" Cherry said, her voice getting smaller with each word.

"We're lumped in the same category as brothels and sex shops," Diamond said, carrying on as if this were an old argument.

"Along with Playboy and Hustler," Scarlett said with a mischievous laugh.

"My point is, I don't consider it bad to want a better life," Diamond said crossing her arms. "I'd help anyone that wants it escape this life, but I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

Everyone fell quiet, and I decided that if we had a quorum, they had a leader. I still felt a tug of regret at what my obligations to the Camarilla demanded and what my heart wanted. I didn't want to ghoul the woman, but she was bound to figure out my secret if she worked with me for any length of time.

I stood, raising my hands to get everyone's attention, and steeled myself. "Any objections to Diamond being the leader?" People looked at each other, at Diamond, and all just sort of shrugged their shoulders before nodding in acceptance. "Well, by the power vested in me, as I have the deepest pockets, I carry the motion. Diamond, you're in charge."

"Thank you," she said, smiling and giving me a hug. "I'll try not to let you down."

"If I could get a word in private?" I said, and Diamond followed me into my room. The desire to ghoul her to protect my secret and what had recently happened continued to war within me. Shutting the door, I finally decided to hell with it.

"Diamond, you do know what you're doing, right?" I asked her and she nodded slowly.

"I was with Duke for four years," she said, her smile fading. "I got a fake ID when I first went to work there, but he knew. He knew I was desperate for money to provide for my sister. Our parents died in a boating accident just after my eighteenth birthday. We didn't own the house we lived in, mortgage payments were due, no equity, no savings; we were screwed. I heard about the girls here making lots of money, but you had to be twenty-one, so a friend forged an ID for me."

"You never told your sister what he did to you, did you?" I asked and she shook her head.

"Or what he made us do to the customers," she sobbed, shoulders heaving as she cried in her hand. "She doesn't know how I kept the house or got her braces installed. What I had to agree to so I could afford to send her on a Caribbean cruise with her friends."

"Hey," I said, sitting beside her and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Cherry is your sister, isn't she?"

"Yeah," she sobbed, wiping at her eyes. "She found out I danced a few years ago. Wants to join me at Four-Play when she's old enough."

"You don't want her dancing, do you?"

"I wish I could do something to stop her, protect her from the degenerates out there, but she always wanted to be just like me."

"That's what I'm offering now," I said, and she looked at me, tears still filled her eyes. "The chance to be the manager, not just an employee. To start pushing her into a top college while she's still young. And the money you get to pay for it all will be clean and not cost you your soul."

"I know," she said, hanging her head.

"Is this something you want to do?" I asked her. "I can always look for someone else."

"No, this needs to happen for the girls," she said resolutely. "I doubt any of the other girls would be as fair as I would. You see how they reacted to Jade."

"And how they reacted to you," I said. "Well, let me ask you another question. Would you be interested in doing this long term?"

"Like what? For the rest of my life?" she asked, turning her head to look at me.

"Something like that, yeah," I said, nodding my head a bit. "I don't have the time to deal with everything, even the gang attack that destroyed the club, I was just a blip on the radar. I need someone who's willing to shoulder the bulk of the load and put their name on it."

"Someone to be the public face when there's a problem," she said, going along with my line of thinking. "That's a lot of trust to put in a stranger you just met."

"Well, there's more to go with it," I said, putting more faith in my decision. "My first question, and please understand, there's no going back past this point. Duke raped you girls and made you think there was no way free of his control. What I'm offering, you'll wish Duke were still alive if you cross me."

"So it isn't trust, it's control," Diamond said, looking at her sandaled feet.

"It's all about control," I said, holding her close. "Do you want to run the club? That means you're going to be prone to some very nasty secrets, some of those I must keep. If you agree to this, you must keep those secrets too. There's no middle ground on this. There's no backing out once I start spilling. If you accept, you can never back out, even if you leave the club behind."

"How bad is it?" she asked me, look over at me. "Can I ask that much before putting my life on the line?"

"You mean, how many laws am I breaking and how much trouble could you ever be in?" I asked and she nodded. "For the most part, very few laws. I don't run guns, or drugs, and I don't force people into prostitution," I said, adding a silent 'anymore' in my head. "If everything goes to plan, you'll never be involved in a murder, nor will I, and you run everything legally, lawfully, and ethically."

"So why the secrecy?" she asked, and I grimaced.

"I run with a very select group that doesn't want the world to know they exist," I said, and her jaw fell open.

"Illuminati?" she asked, but I shook my head.

"Even more secret. You've never heard of us, and we want to keep it that way."

She thought about it for a bit, then asked, "What really happened with Duke. What you can tell me, at least."

"There's another group, like mine, that hates us," I told her, getting a nod that she understood. "We're working on kicking them out of the city, and between us there's a bitter blood feud. What happened at Four-Play was that they found me, they came for me, and they tried to kill me. I ordered Duke to get everyone out, and me, him and another stood to make sure the girls and the patrons got away safe. Duke died, my friend Yukie took two bullets, and I managed to survive."

"So, will that happen again?" she asked, but I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Can't say," I told her truthfully. "Hopefully I can get my group to stand with me and we'll run them out in the next week. In a perfect world, they'll all be gone."

"And in an imperfect world," she asked, standing up to go to the sink to freshen up her face.

I sighed, and shook my head. "Part of my offer is a partnership," I told her, as the water ran. "I'll make a large deposit to your bank account so you can handle things, and everything gets run in your name. I become the quiet partner who sometimes stops by to hang out."

Diamond came back in to the room after freshening herself up, and eyed me. "You didn't answer the question," she said, shaking her head.

"If you don't see me in the next few days, you likely never will again," I said, hunching over my knees. "I'll leave you a signed check with a large amount of cash made out to you. If I don't come back, take the money and run the club however you want."

She looked at me, and then nodded, moving to sit on a chair by the window. "I guess all that's left is for me to decide whether I want to be party to what you're doing," she said, laying out the towel to sit on. "If there's anything going on that I don't like, can I complain?"

"What do you think will be going on that you don't like?" I asked her, looking her in the eyes.

"Anything illegal that will get me in trouble with the cops," she began, then looked at her sandaled feet. "Rape, forced prostitution, all the things we were forced into by Duke. Murder..." she said, then gave a sob as she put her head in her hands.

"You see anything like that I want you to call the cops immediately and get a report going," I said, and she looked up at me. "Murder, I'd sooner never have to kill someone. Those that I do have to kill, well, that's part of my protected side. As far as drugs in the club, I won't push it, or require anything of them. I know several girls use them, and I won't say yay or nay on the issue."

"They make what we do more tolerable," Diamond said, wrapping her arms about herself.

"Then I leave that to your more experienced hands," I said. "For the most part, I just want the club to make money, but there's things about my life you have to stay quiet about."

"I wish I had some clue," she said, shaking her head, when I had an idea. I stood, and went to where I had my messenger bag by the door. I picked it up and slid it beside her on the table, along with my Glock. She recoiled at seeing the gun, but calmed down when I moved to sit back on the bed.

"Go ahead, open the bag and find out for yourself," I told her, watching as she gently pulled the bag closer and edged the pistol away. She opened the bag, and pulled out the weapon that was on top and held it like she was picking up a carcass.

"What is it?" she asked me, eyeing the small weapon before leaning against the other chair.

"A Kalashnikov," I told her and she gave me a puzzled look. "An AK-47. Fully automatic assault rifle."

"Aren't they illegal?" Diamond asked me, and I nodded.

"Yes, but that's like the limit that anybody will ever prove if they tried," I told her.

"So there is more?" she prompted, and I shrugged.

"It's all on me and not for you to worry about," I told her, and she again looked to my bag.

"But, if it went to court, would I ever know enough to be labeled an accomplice?"

"Why would you be an accomplice?" I asked her, smiling. "You run the club, and my orders are for it to be run legally and lawfully. I just don't want you telling people about me and those I work with and the things I do. It should never affect you, and what does, I'll bail you out with the best ways possible so that you are never affected."

"Sounds like there's lots of benefits," she said with a wry chuckle.

"I could give you an even longer list, but after recent events, I'm not really wanting to offer them," I told her. "When you know more, you can decide for yourself with eyes wide open."

"Guess I'm in," she said with a shrug.

"Are you sure, because after this, there's no going back," I warned her and she nodded her head.

"I'd do anything to protect my sister, and what you're offering sounds like the perfect way to keep her from being foolish," she said. "As the club manager, I could keep her from dancing."

"At least in our club," I said, and she winced at that. "But maybe we could limit her interaction with a peep show or something," I said, and Diamond brightened at that.

"Keep her behind a pane of thick glass where she does a little dance and finds out from a distance what pigs some men can be," she said thoughtfully. "I like it, but you don't normally find peep shows at a strip club."

"All you have to do is make it cheap, and I guarantee some guys will eat it up," I told her, thinking of the customer who came just to watch. "At least this way, she makes money, stays safe, and never gets forced into sex against her will."

"Thanks for caring," she said, giving me a smile. "So, yes, I'm in."

"Follow me," I told her, leading her back to the bathroom and it's large mirror. To me it was a cheap trick, but effective.

Once I had her in the bathroom, I turned on all the lights, and stepped behind her. "What do you see?"

"The room, the lights," she said, then I put my hands on her shoulders.

"What about me?" I asked and she squinted into the mirror.

"Must be a trick mirror," she mused, and I looked at her quizzically.

"Okay," I said, turning her around. I was going to have to get more direct. "Then explain this," I said, dissolving my body and letting it collapse to the floor. Diamond gasped before bending over to test what she was seeing, and I saw I was some form of inky puddle. I looked up to the ceiling, moving that direction and saw the puddle of me she was holding form into a ball and rise from her hand. She looked up in terror, before I reformed my body and fell to the floor.

"What the..." she started to say, backpedaling to the sink before slipping under it for protection.

"I'm a vampire," I told her, letting her have her space to absord the knowledge I had just given her.

"But, but you said you don't murder people!" she nearly screached, terror making her voice high.

"I don't," I told her, keeping calm. "I don't have to kill to feed, I just pull some blood through the skin like a mosquito when I need it. And I can't even feed from you, anyway, so you're safe."

My words seemed to calm her somewhat, but she still stayed huddled at the sink. "So, what do you want from me?"

"I just need you to keep quiet about me being a vampire," I told her, keeping it simple. "Often, I may have to tell you some of the things that are happening in our world so you can defend the club, but for the most part, you will never enter my world. Hopefully, I will be the only vampire you ever meet."

"So I don't have to bring you victims or anything?" she asked and I shook my head.

"No, and you can forget what the movies have told you about us," I told her, and that seemed to scare her more. "For the most part, we don't interfere with normal human lives. We have our own underground society hidden in plain sight and we follow the laws like everyone else. In point of fact, if you ever see a vampire kill someone or use their special powers in public, I need you to tell me about it so we can stop it."

Diamond huddled under the sink, then inched forward. "So, I'm safe right? I just have to keep the fact you're a vampire secret to keep living?"

"Pretty much," I said, extending a hand and helping her back to her feet.

"You're not how I expected a vampire to act," she said, dusting herself off. "I figured you'd be more Gothic or something."

"From what I can tell, vampires are just as varied as the humans we hide among," I told her. "Bikers, billionaires, actors, homeless, all have a place in our society."

"So," she said, as she was lost in her own thoughts as she moved back to the room's sitting area. "How does this work? With the club, I mean."

"I'm just going to be the silent partner, mostly," I told her, sitting in the other chair after leaning the Kalashnikov against the bed. "I'd rather you were the front for the place, and as such, I'll fund everything through your bank account. You do have one, don't you?"

"Doesn't everybody?" she said. "So, essentially, it's my club we're building. How do you profit from this?"

"Every so often, bi-weekly or monthly, you make a payment for a portion of the profits," I tol her, getting a hmm of appreciation. "As with Confessions, no profit, no payment."

"And I'm under no compulsion to do anything illegal," she said, more as a statement than a question. "Sounds like I hit the lottery. What about your secret though, what happens if I talk?"

"Then I'll show up and kill you," I told her, hanging my head. "I don't like having to do it, but the group I'm with, if I didn't make sure the secrets stay secret they'll kill me too, after killing you."

"Oh," she said, hand covering her mouth. "So, no one can ever know. Will anyone ask?"

"Shouldn't," I told her, thinking that no one should ever come looking for me as a kindred. "They'll either ask for me specifically by name or they might ask for my corporation. All you have to do is relay it back to me as if I were a friend or business associate."

"Alright," she said, nodding her head. "So, how much are you going to give me to start things out?"

I took a pen and a check from my bag, writing it out for two million. When I gave it to her, her eyes bulged. "Wow," she said breathlessly. "You really do have money."

I signed off on another, writing this one out for three hundred million. "When I leave here tonight, I have to go avenge a friend and try to get some others back. One thing about being me is I won't leave a corpse behind when I die. So this," I said, handing her the check and she nearly fainted as she looked at the amount, "Is for if you don't hear from me in a few days. Take the money, start the club, care for your sister and the girls and enjoy your life."

"Thank you," she said in a whisper, then looked at my heavy hardware. "I don't normally like guns or hurting people, but," she said, pausing as her eyes hit the Kalashnikov. "I wish you luck in finding your friends."

"Thanks," I said, standing up to put the Kalashnikov back in the bag and get dressed.

I looked to where my clothes were laid on the dresser, and back to Diamond, seeing the woman was still staring at the millions of dollars she held in her hand. Feeling somewhat comfortable, I peeled off my borrowed bikini, and began to redress in my leather outfit. It seemed almost a crime to cover up my new tan, but I couldn't walk around with a shotgun hanging off my bare back.

As I slipped my coat back on my shoulders, I felt eyes watching me and saw that Diamond had finally recovered from her shock, and folded both checks and stuck them down her cleavage. "Do you wear makeup?" she asked me and I nodded.

"The ghoul that I normally have to do that was kidnapped today," I told her, hanging my head at the thought. "She'll never be able to do it again, but I won't leave her to those depraved maniacs."

"I'm sorry," she said, standing to join me. She took the motel pad and pen and wrote out an address in Hawthorne. "That's my house in Santa Barbara. If you need me, I'll be there."

"Thanks," I said, giving her a hug. She tensed, but returned it, and then seemed to relax when we broke apart. She seemed sheepish, and blushed a bit.

"I thought you were going to feed from me," she apologized.

"Being that close, I could have," I confessed, smiling at her. "But taking your blood would do nothing for me. Only the blood of other vampires can feed me now."

I was about to leave, my messenger bag slung over my back and my hand on the door handle, when a thought him me. "You don't know where Amber took my Ninja, do you?"

"No, but I know she hangs out at a biker bar in Long Beach," she said, following me. "It's called the Ride or Die club. The have their own mechanic and tire shop"

"Sounds quaint," I said, closing the door behind me. "And thanks. If I make it through, I'll get my bike out to ride."

"Sounds fun," she said, following me into the dark hallway away from the ongoing party.

"Well, off to see if I can get any help," I told her, smiling in the faint light coming from the parking lot. "Be safe," I told her. When she nodded, I shadow-stepped to the lobby of the Camarilla, then turned to head for Walsh's office. I found him sitting behind his desk, reading from a binder.

"Miss Flores," he said, setting the binder aside. "I heard of your most recent attack. You have my condolences."

"Where are they, Walsh?" I asked him, making him frown.

"In an area too secure to hit," he told me. "We have a group pinned down in a warehouse in Long Beach, but I nearly lost a deputy trying to get in. They aren't afraid to use heavy firepower and we are bound by the masquerade."

"Where?" I asked him, getting angry. The lights in the room dimmed, and Walsh shrank back as he gave me directions.

"You do know they will kill you," he said as I stepped to the door, my shadows fading to allow the light to fill the room again.

"They will try," I said before shadow-stepping out of the office to the sidewalk below.

I pulled out my phone and called a cab. While waiting for it, I got a call from Kilpatrick. "Hey," I said, when I opened the line.

"I found your friend Venus," he said. "Bail is five hundred grand. Apparently she resisted arrest, as well."

"I'm on my way," I said as my cab pulled up.

"She'll be waiting," he said, and the line went dead.

I got in the cab, and had it head straight for Kilpatrick's Bail Bonds. Being late, about eight-thirty or so made for good time, but it was stop and go once we got off the freeway. Soon though, we were at the place, and I stepped out and paid the man, using my card from Walsh to pay for it before going inside.

Venus sat on a plastic chair, wearing a black netted top over a black bra with a leather mini to go with it. She looked disheveled and she wouldn't look me in the eye. I approached and Arthur met me.

"This her?" he asked, and I nodded.

"So, fifty grand is what I owe you?" I asked and Venus flinched as I named the amount. She hunched over, pulling her knees up to her chin.

"Yeah," he said, and I pulled out a check and filled it out for him. "Also, need your driver's license."

I handed it over, and he wrote down my information, then copied it on a copier before handing it back to me. When he was done, he came over and addressed the both of us.

"Now, since this is both the first time for you two, let me make it clear," he said, having my attention and Venus's as well. "First off, no leaving LA without notifying me and getting permission to go. Check in every day at noon until I say otherwise, and no guns," he said, more for Venus's benefit than mine. "Now, I'm not going to go to your house and search it unless you give me reason, and since there's no drugs I'm not going to order a drug test. If you fail to check in, you better have good reason, because if I feel you won't show for your trial I will throw you back in jail, and no, you don't get a refund."

That last had been directed at me, and I nodded. "She'll be there," I told him.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Venus said, her voice soft and tired. Jail hadn't been good to her it seemed.

"Good. For now, you're free to go," Arthur said then walked away.

"Come on, Venus," I said. "We need to talk."

"Yes'm," she said, standing and following me as I left. I hadn't held the cab, so I called one, being told it would take five minutes to get there. When I looked at Venus, she seemed scared.

"I'm sorry," she said, apologizing when she realized I was looking at her.

"No," I said, and she flinched. "I am. It wasn't me that called you to Malibu. I didn't think she would ever try that."

"Who?" she said, starting to stand taller now that she knew she wasn't in trouble.

"Her name is Celeste," I told her. "She can manipulate blood, even the blood of others to do what she wants. She sent you a command to come, and you followed. If you had made it, you would have been kidnapped and had your eyes and tongue ripped out."

"That girl?" she asked, putting a hand over her mouth as her face paled.

"Was one of my pets," I told her, confirming her fears. "Her name was Constance, and was just a kid in high school. It's making me really wonder if I want ghouls."

"Why? Are we such a bother?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"Those I keep close to me are a liability, and having my blood in you makes you a remote controlled threat."

"A threat? How?" she asked, then seemed to pale more when I turned to face her fully.

"Let's say I renege on our deal," I began. "I force you to come to my home, tend my house and do my makeup and laundry. Because you are so close, Celeste can use you to kill me and never have to step foot in my home to do it."

"That's horrific," she said, finding her voice finally. "I never knew that could happen."

"And you didn't get much of a chance to learn before I gave you my blood," I told her. "I'll give you a chance to stop taking my blood now, before your in so deep you can't get out easy."

"It does feel nice," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's a love I haven't felt in years running all through me."

"It's a false love, sweety," I told her. "I can use it to force you to do things that would make what you did with Boris seem tame, and you'll beg for more. I can use it to make you carve flesh from your own body, cook and eat it while praising the gift I have given you."

"In that light, maybe it would be best if I stopped," she said, shuddering.

"Are you cold?" I asked and she nodded. "Here," I said, undoing my coat. I had it off before realizing my shotgun was exposed, then pulled the sling off and hung it around Venus's neck, then let her put on my coat and buttoned it up.

"Thanks," she said, enjoying the warmth my coat offered. "I guess once you get used to the heat here, more normal temperatures in the twenty degree range don't seem so warm."

"Twenty?" I said, then realized she was talking Celsius and not Fahrenheit. "Wouldn't know since I grew up here. So, when you feel like you want your fix, let me know. I'll make sure you don't get it and help you through till you can function again."

"Your too kind," she said, as our cab pulled up. We got in, and she took a moment to arrange herself on the backseat so that the gun wasn't visible. I joined her, so we could talk if we wanted.

"I do have bouncers, bartenders, disc jockeys, waitresses and a few girls to just party headed your way tomorrow night," I told her after I told the cab driver to head for Confessions in downtown.

"Sounds like you have enough people to run an entire club," she remarked after recovering from her initial shock.

"It was," I said, looking out the window at the passing scenery. "They used to run Four-Play. But since the club burned down, they need a new place to work."

"Well they can work all they want for me," she said, regaining her usual composure. "I've got two guys at the bar that couldn't mix a Bloody Mary if they tried."

"Well, the guys coming in can do it in their sleep," I told her. "Use them how you see fit. Maybe they can help you get your club back on its feet."

"What do we do about my, uh, upcoming arraignment?" she asked, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"Start using your days to screen a lawyer," I told her, shaking my head. "Try to get a good specialist," I told her, fishing in my bag for a pair of checks. I signed one, leaving the rest of the information blank and then signed the other, listing two hundred million on the amount. I then handed both to her. "Use the blank check for lawyer bills," I told her, then she switched to the other and her jaw dropped. "If you don't hear from me within a few days, deposit that into your bank account," I told her, shaking my head as I turned to look out the window. "If you don't hear from me by then, I likely don't survive what happens tonight."

"What are you going to do?" she asked me, and I shook my head.

"Go find the others that were taken from me," I told her, leaving unsaid a lot in case the cab driver was listening in on us.

After that, the conversation died between us on the trip back to Confessions. I dropped Venus off without further word, then gave the cab driver the directions to the warehouse. I continued to think on ghouls, more specifically, my ghouls. The likelihood that any of them were salvageable was slim, not after seeing what they had done to the three they had captured in my house. Sharron and Angel were likely under some compulsion from Celeste and her dominate ability, but that wouldn't have held forever.

The last person I though of was Sammie. Celeste had said she would be gristle for the next batch, and I wondered if that meant she would be turned. Thoughts of that led me to thinking if she were turned, who did the turning. There were a number of clans that seemed to have standing in the local Sabbat, but Gangrel and Tremere were the standouts. If Sammie were either of them, she might hate herself.

I'd still help her though, I thought, as we continued through the dark night. I thought back to my Trial, and that the prince had granted clemency to me in exchange for a boon. Maybe if I took Sammie straight to him, begged him for his clemency he would spare her as well.

I felt the car slow, as we approached a car with flashing red and blue lights, knowing that this would be my stop. It was time to face the Sabbat, and not just the fiends and one kindred. This time, I would be facing lots of men and kindred with guns and kindred with powers, all inside a fortified building men with guns and kindred with powers couldn't breach. I had an ace in the hole though, I could shadow-step and start the fight hand to hand before they could grab a gun.

It was time to start the ball. Midnight was approaching.

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 _ **Love it, hate it, want me to burn and die? I won't know if you don't review!**_


	46. Chapter 46 - Avenging Demon

**Author's note: I've been told that my fear's about the intensity of the last few chapters has been unwarranted. I say only this: Prepare your soul for the horror within.**

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Chapter 46 – Avenging Demon

October 6, 2004 = Wednesday

~Eliza Flores~

I stopped the cab and sent him on back on his way short of the blue lights. Walking up to the end of the car, I found two people standing there, one of them a familiar sight. Seeing Jean eased my tension, and I walked towards the pair.

"It's not a safe place to be," the guy called when I got close.

"Not for them," I told the guy. "Jean, move aside. This is personal."

"Sweetie," she said, and I pulled my katana to let them know my seriousness.

"A club ain't worth your undead ass," the guy said, pushing his trenchcoat back to show his gun.

"Sweetie," Jean said, trying to comfort me. "We'll route them out eventually. I got a guy coming in who can change into something their guns won't hurt and lead the charge."

"They killed Constance, Jean," I told her and she gasped. "The blood doll you comforted in my bed was dumped on the freeway. They have Brian, and Heather, and they ripped their eyes and tongue out as proof. They also have more of my ghouls," I told her, my anger rising as I listed off what they'd done making me speak through almost gritted teeth, "and then they tried to kill me. Now step out of my way or I'll have to cut through you."

Jean stepped aside, pulling the other guy with her and I walked by into the shadow filled road. The warehouse was easy to spot, it's sides lit with bright lights to illuminate the bare area around it. It made it an island of light in a sea of darkness, and I stopped at the edge of the light. Pushing my senses into the shadow by the light, I followed it to the roof to see a group of men carrying large rifles, all posted around the edge.

I watched them, studying each man, finally deciding on which one I'd kill first. He was the largest, and carried a weapon that had a box slung under the rifle to carry a belt of ammo that fed into the side of the gun. Shrugging out of my coat for better access to my guns, I stepped behind the guy, dropping my coat as I used potence to lend strength to my one handed slash so I could decapitate him.

He fell forward, his blood spewing over the side as he fell on his knees. I grabbed the gun's handle as I turned, activating my celerity as I dashed for the nearest man. He barely even turned to face me before my slashed low, cutting the guy in half at the waist. The others on the roof noticed the commotion, but I was already moving.

The guys let loose with their guns, their bullets moving too fast for me to dodge, though they had yet to hit me as their bullets churned at the roof between us as they brought their guns to bear. I made a chakram from the shadows, and threw it along a line of bullets, cutting one guys neck as I plunged the tip of my sword into another. I threw the sword with the guy still on it into the line of fire as the bullets got close, using him as a human shield as I readied the rifle in my hands.

Rifle ready, I squeezed the trigger and let loose a stream of bullets of my own, expecting the rifle to go empty in a few seconds. The gun chattered for the better part of fifteen, allowing me to clear the roof of thugs, either as they fell to my bullets, my aim enhanced by my own celerity and potence, or they decided jumping was the lesser evil.

Roof clear, I slung the empty rifle as I liked it for its rate of constant fire. Maybe if I could get some kind of phosphorous round for it, it would be a great kindred killer, or more accurate, a room full of kindred killer considering it lasted fifteen seconds allowing me to spray an entire room. Wrenching my sword from a still living thug, I slashed his throat before moving back to get my coat.

With my coat tied to my messenger bag, I moved on, my sword in my right hand and a shadow-made chakram in my left. I went to the door leading down, and kicked it in, finding a couple of thugs headed up the stairs. I charged forward, plunging my sword straight through two men then used my potence to throw them over the side. I then hurried down the rest of the stairs in an attempt to get off the elevated platform so I wasn't so visible.

Hunching down beside the stairs and a still open exterior door, I took in the dark warehouse. It was mostly empty, save for large amounts of dirt piled in almost to the windows. Some areas were made flat under the working lights with crudely made stairs climbing their way up. I went up the closest set, finding it was a camping site for the still living since the glass here would let in sunlight and there was no way to keep from getting fried during the day.

I moved on, climbing into the rafters as I topped the pile of dirt, then crouching low when more men came out of a hole in the concrete. "Tony? Ricky?" a man called, looking to the roof as if it were going to come alive. His gun was ready to fire, already shouldered but the barrel was facing down. I fingered the dirt, noting it was loose and my weight was making me sink into it as it packed in. There was no way I could run down the dirt, not in high heels, and I was running too low on blood to keep jumping around.

I watched with hungry eyes as a thin leather clad kindred male climbed his way out of the hole, another rifle similar to the one I carried on my back in his hands. The four began to move slowly down the center, their rifles ready to fire as they looked everywhere. Putting my katana back it its scabbard, I pulled my Kalashnikov from my messenger bag, pulling the stock out straight from its compact mode. Shouldering the weapon, safety off, I lined up on the three men. When they had their back on me, I fired, the burst of automatic fire killing all three with ease. The lone kindred staggered as my bullets raked through him, but he turned with hate filled eyes to the dark rafters, then raised his barrel.

I stepped then, letting the man waste his ammo as I dropped my Kalashnikov into the soft dirt. He didn't waste it all, as the belt still fed bullets into the side, and I crept up behind him. Worry filled me at what I was about to do, but when I was within easy reach, I grabbed his hair with my left hand and yanked his head over, using my stronger right to grab his gun and keep it pointed away as I sank my teeth deep into his neck.

He tried to buck me off, but I had a good bite on him and began to drain him. He went crazy, but soon, he weakened as his blood thinned and no longer seemed capable of breaking free. I quit sucking when he collapsed in my arms, then dropped the kindred forward to lie on the ground. I felt better after taking his blood, and knowing that he wouldn't get up without an infusion, left him there.

Grabbing my Kalashnikov, and reloading it with a fresh clip, I headed for the hole and dropped in. The next level down was a hallway lined with oubliettes lit with oil lamps, a box of said oil near the first lamp in the hallway. I walked on, finding the first room contained a nude Brian. I went to my ghoul, who thrashed when I got closer and began releasing him. He was covered in bruises, small cuts, burn marks, and had the general look of being tortured.

"Brian," I told him, grabbing his hand and holding it still. "It's me, Eliza," I said, and he calmed down. He tried to say something, but without his tongue couldn't understand him. "I'm sorry, Brian," I said, undoing his other wrist.

His hand now free, he immediately hugged me to him, his left briefly feeling up my ass before moving north to my Glock. He jerked it free, and he gave me a smile as he held the weapon, his right hand cupping my face. I gave him a smile he could feel, when he suddenly dropped his hand, dipping into my cleavage to grab a tit. I was about to slug him when his other hand moved the gun to his temple, as if giving me a salute, then the bang of the Glock ripped through his head.

I was too in shock by the actions of my ghoul to do anything. Finally, I removed his hand from my cleavage, and pulled my Glock from his now dead hands and put it back in my holster. I felt bad for him, but looking at him, knew he chose this so he wouldn't burden me. His eyes were gone, his tongue ripped out, and he was useless as a bodyguard. He did the only thing he could to ease my burden; he killed himself.

Leaving my dead ghoul behind, I kept searching the rooms, finding more people in the same state as Brian. All were nude, lacked their eyes and tongue, and thrashed when they sensed my presence as if they were trying to free themselves before they could be tortured again. The first woman I found had more evidence of torture in the form of white streaks across her face, breast and stomach, but I let her be. Heather, Angel and Sharron had to be here somewhere, and I finally found Heather in the last room before a thick heavy steel door.

"Heather," I said, letting her know I was here before she began to thrash. She babbled something, and I put a reassuring hand on her cheek. "Easy, Heather. I'm here," I said, as tears leaked out of her eyes.

I looked her over as I began to release her. She had the same white streaks all over her, plus the cuts, bruises and burn marks. Once I had her free, she cuddled up to me, babbling away though I couldn't understand. I ran a hand through her hair, holding her close as I snuggled closer to her. She, like Brian, was ruined as a ghoul now, and giving her forehead a kiss, began to sing to her.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word," I sang, holding Heather close as she sobbed on my shoulder on the bloodstained bed. "Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird."

I ran my hand through her hair again, feeling her sobbing decrease as I sang the Mother Goose song to her. "And if that mockingbird won't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

I hated what I was about to do, but I figured it was more merciful than making her live a life as a burden to others, constantly living a life without sight or speaking without understanding.

"And if that diamond ring turns to brass," I sang, my right hand going behind my back to unsnap my Glock. I shifted my weight so the snap was covered by the bed's creaking as I continued to sing, "Mama's going to buy you a looking glass."

Sliding my Glock out carefully, I continued on as Heather hugged me, her sobs easing away. "And if that glass gets broke, Mama's going to buy you a billy goat."

Heather was quiet now, her small body still occasionally shaking with sobs.

"And if that billy goat won't pull, Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull."

I eased the gun up, Heather's small body calming down as she find her comfort in my presence. I activated my vampire ability, letting soothing feelings spill over her, which quieted her down more.

"And if that cart and bull turn over, Mama's gonna buy you a dog named rover."

She seemed to smile at that, and I briefly paused my bringing of the gun closer to her head. Did I really want to kill her?

"And if that dog named Rover won't bark," I sang, seeing her face calm from the personal hell she'd been through. "Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart."

Steeling myself, I began squeezing my finger on the trigger. This was more merciful to her. I should never have stolen her death from her that night in the clinic. She could have gone somewhat peaceably then, not live in my hell.

"And if that horse and cart fall," BHAM! The gun's report ripped into Heather's head just under her jaw, so sudden and unexpected she only flinched once before her body relaxed in death.

"You'll still be the sweetest baby in town," I finished, kissing her forehead.

I got up from the bed, then arranged her body with her arms over her chest. It didn't seem right to leave her like that, so I pulled my coat from where I had it tied on my messenger bag and draped it over her, covering her head. I was about to leave the room, when I looked back to Heather's body. Dropping my messenger bag to the dirt floor, I undid my belt and pulled my Glock and it's holster from my back, putting both in my bag along with the Kalashnikov.

Slinging my messenger bag on my shoulder, I removed the shotgun from it's sling and held it in my hands. Turning to the door and the hard rock I could barely hear, I kicked it in, finding it a large room the size of my great room in my now burned down mansion. Crude bookcases stood on one side, a ruined chair beside it. I couldn't see the person in it, but their light brown hair indicated Celeste.

A small bit of movement on top of one of the bookcases caught my eye, and I saw her familiar as it tended to an oil lamp providing light for the killer kindred. I looked around the room, my anger growing as I spotted two graves along the far wall. One said Sharron Carter, the other Meredith Coates.

"George, either spit out what the Cammies are doing or fix my fucking door," Celeste called, never turning around though the radio turned itself down when she spoke and remained there, as if awaiting a response.

"If George was the kindred I killed," I said, making Celeste jump out of the chair to spin around and face me, "He won't be joining us."

"How the fuck did you get out when that bomb exploded?" she demanded, blood pooling in her hands.

"You underestimate my shadow abilities," I told her, aiming my shotgun at her head. "I've had the ability to shadow-step for a week now."

"Damn that Tung," Celeste spat. "Fool could at least get us good info."

"Where is Samantha?" I demanded of her.

"Don't know, don't care," she said flippantly while smiling. "Buried your other bitches alive after getting back from what I thought was your funeral pyre. Maybe they're still alive, maybe not."

I didn't let her say another word as I squeezed the trigger, my shot going just over her head as she dove for the chair. I racked the shotgun, and Celeste threw a blood blob over the top of the chair. I jumped from the landing by the door, rolling in the dirt to face Celeste. She seemed somewhat surprised by my move, and I lined up the shotgun on her face.

I saw the blood pool in her hand as I lined up the shot, then cover her in a red shimmer just as my gun bucked on my shoulder. The blast still caught her full in the face, knocking her back, but Celeste didn't seem the least bit phased by it. She scrambled to her feet, as I reracked the shotgun and fired again, this blast catching her in her middle and knocking her into the bookcase, causing it fall.

I reracked the shotgun, noting that Celeste's little fairy had righted the lantern and that none of the books were burning before drilling the little bitch again. Her small petite frame couldn't stand up to the shotgun's blast, so she was knocked into the wall again. That red shimmer over her seemed to soak the damage, if not the force, of each blast, so I kept re-racking the shotgun and blasting the Tremere until with the last shell, the protective shell shattered around her.

With a snarl, she threw a small wad of blood at me, the marble sized amount moving as fast as a paintball. It hit me in my bare stomach, merging briefly into my skin before returning to Celeste's hand the size of a baseball. The pull of blood told me what she had done, and I dropped the shotgun as she merged the blood into her hand.

"Ooh," she said, shivering as she seemed to 'taste' my blood. "What neck have you latched on to?"

"Lucian's," I said, forming a katana and chakram.

The information shocked her, and she began to circle me, moving away from her books. I kept my eyes on her, watching as she began to pool the blood in her hand. I threw the chakram, aiming low to keep her from winding up her throw and hitting her ankle. The blood hit the floor between us, as Celeste struggled to stay upright on her bad leg, and I charged in.

Celeste knew she was in a bad position, backpedaling away and bringing her hands up to block my attack. While it was tempting to use potence to cut through her hand and end the fight quickly, I wanted the bitch to hurt. Letting her hands 'catch' my blade, I sliced them to the bone by yanking the katana back. Celeste screamed, falling backwards and trying to stem the blood by pressing her hands to her shirt.

"How does it feel, bitch?" I taunted her, then stepped in again. Celeste turned over and tried to get to her feet, but I ran my blade down her back leaving her screaming in pain.

"Please, stop!" she cried, trying to crawl away. "Your ghoul, Sharron, might still be alive!"

"So, Meredith is dead?" I said, seeing my vision yellow as my beast tried to assert control. I pushed it back, then to make sure I didn't lose the fight because my beast took control, stepped forward for a Happy Gilmore golf swing with the katana, using Celeste's neck for a golf ball.

My sword connected just as Celeste screamed, cutting her scream off as she turned to ash. The yellow in my vision faded, and I turned back to her familiar.

"No," it breathed, moving forward slowly to the ash pile that was its master. I turned to it, waited till the little thing got closer, then stabbed my sword directly into it. The moment the katana hit the familiar, she dissolved into blood and splattered the ground.

Taking a look around, I found a shovel and began to immediately dig up Sharron's grave. If she were alive, or had a chance to be, I wanted to try and save her. I didn't know how long a person could survive in a coffin, but I'd heard it was like a day once. If that were the case, she'd be scared witless, but alive.

It didn't take a few feet to get to the coffin, and I dug a hole down one side to get my hand under it. Using my potence, I lifted the coffin out, straining a bit to get it out. I worried when no sound came from inside, and slammed a potence fueled fist into the side then wrenched the top off.

Sharron was inside, but she was already dead and her body stank of apples and smoke. I looked inside, seeing a scented candle in a glass bottle taped by her feet. I put the pieces together, my heart sinking. Not content to let the woman suffocate normally, Celeste had placed a lit candle to suck out the oxygen. Checking the lid, I saw where Sharron had tried to claw her way out, her fingernails scratching gouge marks in the wood as she struggled to escape.

Leaving her in the coffin, I started to dig up the second grave when I heard Jean call out, "Eliza?!"

"End of the hall!" I called back. I was able to watch the entrance from where I was digging, seeing Jean enter through the door, her big fourty-four magnum leading the way. She saw me and lowered the gun, holstering it under her arm.

"What's with the coffin?" she said, coming down to the bottom of the pit.

"That's Sharron," I said, plunging the shovel back into the fresh churned earth. "This is my other ghoul that was kidnapped."

"What about the others?" she asked me. "Brian and Heather?"

"Dead," I said, continuing to dig. Jean knelt beside the hole, ear almost to the ground, then looked to me.

"Someone's alive in there," she told me.

"Meredith," I said, digging as fast as I could. Soon I had the hole deep enough to hear her myself, and she was calling for help.

"Meredith!" I yelled, digging the hole beside her so I could leverage the coffin out like I had Sharron's. Jean suddenly blocked the hole, then I watched as her hand transformed into talons and she ripped a hole into the coffin lid, letting fresh air in for her to breathe.

"Help me!" Meredith cried as I knelt by the hole, using my own strength to rip the lid off, setting her free.

Meredith scrambled out with the lid, a little dusty but looking alright in her tight, green camisole top and black leather mini. Her nylons were ripped in places, but it only served to highlight her tanless, creamy skin. Looking into her eyes as she turned to face Jean and I, I saw the yellow rimming her eyes.

"I thought you said she was your ghoul?" Jean said, then began humming a tune.

"She was," I told her, closing my eyes.

"What happened? Why was I in that coffin? Last thing I remember was me and Amber were entering your house and there were men with barrels and they were spraying black paint on your windows and then I think I passed out!"

"Meredith, calm down," I told her, hoping I still had a measure of control over her.

"Hush, little children," Jean started to sing, her song calming and light. It had an immediate effect on Meredith, whose eyes quickly lost their yellow. Jean advanced on her, wrapping her arms around the former ghoul and new kindred. But what kind of kindred?

"That's better, isn't it?" Jean asked her, after finishing a chorus of the song.

"I feel calm now," she said, looking at both of us. "Hungry, but calm. Miss Flores, what happened?"

"Celeste, the kindred who lived here, used my blood connection to you to call you home," I told her and she nodded her understanding. "She likely dominated you, and then she turned you."

"Turned?" she said, as Jean fished something from her jacket. "Turned me into what?"

"One of us," Jean said, pulling a blood pack from her jacket. "This will make you feel better," she said, turning a finger into a talon and slicing a corner off.

"Is it blood?" she asked sheepishly, and we nodded. I could smell the iron laced brew from ten feet away.

"Just drink it," Jean said, putting the bag in Meredith's hands. "Suck on it like a juice pouch."

Meredith did as she was told, drinking the entire bag in one go. When she was done, she pulled the bag from her mouth and her eyes fluttered a bit from the high of her first blood, which considering Jean's source was probably an overpriced neurosurgeon from New York City.

Meredith worked her mouth a bit, swallowing one last time as she lowered the blood bag and looked to us. "Type A positive, forty nine years old, lawyer, salt and pepper hair," she said, looking at the blood bag. "How did I know that?"

Jean looked to me, and shook her head. "That would be because you're Tremere," she told her. "You're kind of kindred know how to do things with blood."

"My kind of kindred?" she asked, and I moved closer.

"They're called Tremere," I told her. "All of the ones I know hole themselves up in a building and study their magic books."

"Study for what?" she asked, her tone somewhat sarcastic. "Is there some sort of big cosmic test they want to pass."

"They've never said," I told her. "They're secretive, and don't talk to outsiders. In fact, they'll probably want these books, too, to keep their secrets intact."

"They consider us Gangrel to be 'special forces,' but I've never seen a more military like force than the Tremere," she said, a wan smile on her face. "Their chain-of-command is strict, and everything is routed through their Regent, which is like an officer to them."

"You make it sound like I shouldn't go," Meredith said, sounding unsure.

"They'd take care of you, teach you how to use your abilities," I told her. "They can do miraculous things with blood. Things we don't even know exist."

"I guess," she said, still sounding unsure. "I can leave if I want though, right?"

"I'm sure you can," Jean told her, then looked around the room. "Why don't you help us get these books all packed up in my Toyota outside, and then we can get out of here. We got people coming soon to clean this area."

We fell to collecting the books, and after Meredith left with her arms full, Jean held me back. "You know she's due for Trial, right?"

"She's not a Sabbat!" I argued with her.

"She's still not recognized by the prince," Jean hissed. "My orders are to bring any kindred not under the prince's protection back for Trial. That means her, too."

"How about we go see the prince when we leave," I said, trying to find some middle ground. "We take care of this before we have to get all the kindred in town together for a Trial where I argue for the same thing anyway."

"Argue for the same thing I did for you?" Jean asked, and I nodded.

"She's not broken any of the traditions, was embraced against her will, and this time, brought before him with someone who is willing to take responsibility for her actions," I said, arguing the points. "If I have to, I'll owe the prince another boon but I won't let you stake her just to scare her more!"

"I agree," she said, her wan smile returning. "She doesn't deserve it."

"So let's get this packed up, see the prince, and maybe Strauss will accept her into his chantry," I said, picking up a large stack.

Jean nodded, and we began to carry the books outside, stacking them all in the back seat of her Toyota. With the last load in the truck and after Meredith cleaned herself up with some wipes Jean carried, we all piled in and left, my new rifle and shotgun in the backseat with the books. Jean drove us straight to the tower while I went over the basics with my former ghoul, parking the pickup in a special access garage I didn't know existed and we rode the elevator up to the lobby of the Camarilla headquarters. When we stepped out to crossover to the private elevator, Walsh was waiting for us.

"Deputy Baker, Miss Flores," he said in greeting, and we stopped to talk to him. "Who's your friend?"

Meredith Coates," she said, extending her hand.

"She was the only ghoul I recovered from Celeste," I told him. "You can also close the case on her, she's ash now, and the standoff at the warehouse has been decided in the Camarilla's favor."

"Truly?" he said, looking to Jean, who nodded and smiled.

"We rounded up sixteen punks who tried to escape, and Pedro and Victor have two more Sabbat staked for Trial, one of them dropped by Eliza."

"You have done well," he said, smiling at me. "What about Miss Coates?"

"She needs to meet the prince for validation," I told him, and he gave me curious look. "She was turned into a Tremere by Celeste Evans."

"Ah," he said, gesturing for us to cross to the private elevator. "I'll escort you."

Feeling a bit conspicuous, I followed the group into the elevator and we went up to see the prince. Walsh led the way, with Meredith and Jean directly behind him and straight through the doors that led to the prince's office. He was sitting to his desk, looking at several sheets of paper, when he noticed us, and his facial tone made it clear he wasn't happy about something. One thing I did notice was that the sheriff wasn't by his side, which made me oh so warm and fuzzy.

"Mister Walsh," he said, his tone severe. "I thought I made it clear at our last meeting that I didn't want to hear from you again until you cleared out that Sabbat nest in Long Beach."

"It's been cleared, sir," he said, adopting a formal and subservient tone with the prince. "Miss Flores led an attack that netted sixteen mortals and two kindred."

"She did?" the prince asked, taken aback by the words. "I see. Is this one of the captured kindred?" he asked, looking at Meredith.

"No, sir," I said, stepping forward with my head lowered. It was time to play political games. "This is Meredith Coates, one of my ghouls who was captured by the traitor Celeste Evans and turned into a Tremere against her wishes. I brought her to you in the hopes to beg favor that you might spare her life."

"That won't be necessary," he said, his tone somewhat cold. "Mister Walsh, you and your deputy may escort Miss Coates back to the lobby. I wish a word with Miss Flores. Alone."

My heart sank as the other three left the room, leaving me alone with the prince. When the door closed, his face relaxed into one of relief. "I find myself in the rare position of being in awe," he said, relaxing his posture behind his desk. "Here I think I was going to have to face the city's primogen while a known nest of the Sabbat withstood my attempts at purging them from the city."

"Glad to be of service, sir," I said demurely, retaining my subservient pose.

"You need not beg favor to spare your former ghouls life," he told me, and I sagged in relief at that. "Indeed, you have done me a great service, though I should think you would be hunting for the Ankaran Sarcophagus."

"I have a lead, sir," I told him, hoping I wasn't making a mistake revealing my news or suspicions. "I found Primogen Gary of the Nosferatu and he revealed that information of the sarcophagus's location was released to the Giovanni."

"Blast them!" the prince spat, his posture going rigid.

"I was waiting until Friday evening and was going to try to slip into their party to search the premises for it, though if you want to make a more formal grab, I'd be happy to lead the way."

"No," he said, sagging back into his chair. "You've made the right decision. The Giovanni are not a clan to mess with, and without direct knowledge of its location, they might move, bury or destroy it before we could ascertain its location within the premises."

"Then I shall continue my former course and infiltrate their party," I said, and the prince gave me a wicked smile.

"Keep proving yourself useful to me, Miss Flores," he said, his posture again relaxing into his chair, "And I might find myself deeply indebted to you. As I said before, you need not beg favor for your ghouls life. I spare her, as payment for the favor you inadvertently paid me in dealing with Miss Evans and her Sabbat pack. I ask only that you watch over her for the first few days, teach her to respect the Traditions as you have, and make sure she understands the importance of keeping the Masquerade."

"I will, sir," I said, unable to keep the smile from my face. "Is there anything else?"

"No, that will do it," he said, shuffling the papers on his desk. "Have a good evening, Miss Flores."

You too, sir," I said, bowing a bit before turning and walking out, my head high.

I soon rejoined Meredith, Jean and Walsh in the lobby, telling them what the prince said about Meredith. All were happy to hear the news.

"Well, my dear," Walsh said, extending his business card to her, "If you have any questions or need to report a masquerade breach as I've instructed you on them, please call me immediately."

"So much to learn," she said, taking the card.

"Once you master the basics, the rest is easy," I told her. "Jean, why don't we swing by the chantry and see if they'll take Meredith in and teach her the ways of their clan."

"Sure," she said, leading the way to the main elevator down. "My night's clear now, so unless something comes up, I'm roaming the streets, anyway."

We took the elevator down, Jean using a special key to access the garage floor, and rode in her Toyota pickup to the chantry. We left the books in her pickup, so we could check-in with Strauss. Once through the door, I pointed out the cats and fairies hiding on the second floor landing.

"And that one there," I said, pointing out the large tabby sitting on the banister. "Is Keenan. He belongs to the magister, Eloise Watson."

"And they can talk to them and be understood?" she said, and I nodded.

"Hi, Keenan," I called up the tabby, and it hopped down and rubbed against my leg. "Where's Eloise?"

He darted to the door, paused, and we began following him through the halls to the familiar doors of Strauss's study. When I opened the door, I found Strauss and Eloise talking with an another guy who was older, with mostly gray hair and glasses in a tweed suit.

"Here she is, now," Strauss said, standing from his customary spot by the fire. "Miss Flores, my lord, Thomas Barkiss."

"A pleasure," I said, nodding my head. I didn't think it would happen so fast.

"And whom are the other two," Barkiss said in a British accent.

"The blonde on Miss Flores's right is Deputy Jean Baker," Strauss said, introducing her. "I must confess, to not knowing the other."

"Allow me to introduce Meredith Coates," I said, and the everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"I've come to see if its possible for me to join the chantry," Meredith asked.

"One must be of Tremere blood to join our chantries," Barkiss said.

"My sire was Celeste Evans," she said, and Strauss and Barkiss exchanged a stoic glance.

"Let me check," Eloise said, coating her hand in blood. I was close enough to see the words what formed on Meredith's hand, the words 'Celeste Evans,' 'Tremere,' and the number nine formed. She then turned and informed Strauss and Barkiss of her findings.

"She was born outside of the pyramid," Barkiss said in a low tone to Strauss as they tried to have a private conversation.

"I know," he said, muttering it under his breath before increasing his volume to be properly heard. "I'm sorry, fledgling. We must deny your request at this time."

"But, why?" she asked, becoming a bit distraught.

"We're not saying you may not join the chantry in time," Strauss said, proving his worth as a politician and diffusing the situation, "but the secrets are only available to the worthy."

"How does one prove their worth to the clan, when the clan keeps them at arms length," Jean said, challenging the men. "For that matter, do you do do this to all fledglings?"

"By helping keep our secrets," Strauss said defensively. "And no, Deputy Baker, we don't do this to those we embrace in accordance to our clan's strict guidelines. Only those individuals who are sired without the clan's permission are barred from direct entry into the chantry."

"The night wanes, Regent Strauss, so if I might ask the question for which I came?" Barkiss asked, removing his glasses to clean them.

"You may, my lord," Strauss said.

"It has been alleged that you were offered to be taught the ways of Thaumaturgy," he said, cleaning his glasses with a silk cloth. "Is this true?"

"Yes, sir," I said, nodding my head. "Regent Strauss offered to teach me for taking care of a sensitive problem."

"Is this true, Regent Strauss?" he asked, turning to the elder Tremere.

"I offered, yes," he said, lowering his head. "The sensitivity of the problem in question was one that affected the masquerade."

"Why didn't you alert the scourge?" Jean asked, and I swear Strauss winced.

"Because I didn't want to bring shame on our chantry that one of our creations got free," he said, finally. "I had no intention of carrying out said instruction, intending to use dominate to wipe the memory of our agreement from her mind or change the payment she wanted."

I laughed at that, making all the Tremere in the room eye me. "Feel free to try," I said, laughing.

"Is that a challenge?" Barkiss asked, and I nodded my head then removed my shades.

"Hop," he said, and I shook my head.

"No, you hop," I said, forcing the last word out as a mental command on the Tremere who immediately got up from his high backed seat and began hopping.

After several hops, he stopped what he was doing and look quite embarassed. "I," he said, looking around and then looked at me.

"She's of an extremely low generation," Eloise said, speaking up. "There's not a handful of kindred in the world who can dominate her by the rules we know of."

"That is, unlikely," he said, returning to his seat. "My sire, Meerlinda, should have no problem dominating her if she so chose."

"No, sir," Eloise said, getting a look of disbelief from Barkiss. "She's fourth generation. Meerlinda is fifth. The laws of domination as we Tremere understand them would not allow her to dominate Miss Flores."

"It is impossible for her to be of such low generation," Barkiss said quickly. "There's only four members of the council who can lay claim to such a generation, and one person in the world who may make one!"

"And only those four members have any chance of dominating her," Eloise said calmly. "Also, she's not a Tremere, but of clan Lasombra, and me and Strauss can both attest to her having met him."

"I see," he said, then turned back to Strauss. "Did you know of all this?"

"I did not know of everything," Strauss told him. "I knew she was particularly powerful, but not the extent of her power or her low generation."

"Very well," he said, seeming to have made up his mind. "I find that though Regent Strauss offered, he was not willing to carry through on his offer," he said, and I gave Strauss an evil eye. He caught my look, and seemed to wither under my glare. "As such, I find that though this warrants a more mindful hand in the future, it does not warrant the immediate removal of Strauss from his office.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to New York City," he said standing.

"I will escort you, my lord," Strauss said, standing to walk with the Brit out the door. Once they were out the door, I turned to Eloise.

"Well, there goes my life," she said sourly.

"What does that mean?" Meredith asked her.

"It means, kid, you got a tutor," she said, hanging her head. "Got a couch?"

"Um, yeah," Meredith said, looking thoughtful. "It's not very comfortable. Personally, I'd rather sleep on the floor."

"Once I fall into torpor during the day, it won't matter," she said, and we all began to shuffle out in the hall. "You mind if I bring a trunk?"

"I got a pickup outside," Jean said, trying to be the upbeat one in the group which I thought hilarious. A Gangrel was the happy one? "Bring as much as you want."

"Give me a hand?" she said, and we followed her up the stairs to what seemed to be her room.

Walking in the door, I found it was a one room suite with attached bathroom. A bar divided the kitchenette from the living/bedroom area. Eloise began to remove books from a shelf, stacking them in a chest, while the rest of us stood around. When she filled the trunk, she filled Meredith and Jeans hands with as much as they could hold, then I picked up the trunk with my potence.

"Just pile it on," I told her, finding the trunk light with my potence activated. Eloise obliged, putting more books on top of the trunk until I had the last of it, then she grabbed all the clothes in her closet and slung them over her shoulder before grabbing Keenan's bed.

"Let's go," she said, trooping out the door to the entryway. I followed her, past a growing knot of acolytes who watched their magister leave. "Keenan! Let's go!" she called, calling her tabby to her. The cat followed, acting more like a dog as it stuck by her side and we piled everything in the back of Jean's Toyota.

We packed it all in, but a sense of unease hit me. "Headed back to the motel? I asked Meredith.

"Yeah," she said, and I nodded my head.

"Mind holding my bag and rifle for me? I want to take a walk," I told her.

"Sure," she said, then looked concerned. "I'd ask if you were going to do something crazy, but you already did when you rescued me."

"It's nothing," I said, smiling. I knew what she was concerned about, but decided to lie to put her at ease. "I want to see if I can find any more Sabbat. They still have my friend."

"Do me a favor?" she asked, and I nodded for her to go on. "Don't take them on by yourself. I don't care if you did that to rescue me, don't try to be the hero."

"If I find them, I'll call Jean," I said, then began to drift down the sidewalk. "Promise."

I knew she watched me walk away, not hearing the pickup start for several minutes. Out there, somewhere, was my friend, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to go find her. Something was wrong in me, something that made killing too easy.

Heading down the sidewalk, I finally labeled what it was. I needed the absolution of confession, the promise that I wasn't a bad person and my soul wasn't going to go to Hell. I needed a church, and after checking a nearby phone booth, began to walk for the closest one.


	47. Chapter 47 - Confessing the Past

*looks at chapter, sighs*

* * *

Chapter 47 – Confessing the Past

October 6, 2004 = Wednesday

~Eliza Flores~

Walking up to the front door, I ghosted through it without a thought that there was even a door there. It was so simple now, entering where I wasn't wanted, going where I didn't need to be, that it didn't even register until I was dipping my finger in the holy water font to cross myself. Sighing, I crossed myself and entered the dark chapel, the feeling of loneliness an ache in my being.

Looking around, I took in the dark chapel and its ornate architecture. Not a single piece caught my eye in the darkness, nothing seemed to touch my soul. Here, where once I had been filled inside and knew for a fact that there was a God, I now felt alone and hollow.

I couldn't even find a tear to express my desolation.

Sitting in the pew, I decided to wait. I could do that, at least. Waiting was easy, as it was a return of my undead body to its natural position; rest. I didn't need to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom and I figured my muscles lacked the stimuli needed to cramp, so there was nothing left to do but assume the most position available and wait for something to happen.

Sitting in the dark, my mind blank, time seemed to fade away. Day might have approached and I wouldn't have noticed. Such was my state, that I didn't even notice I had company until I felt his sleeve brush my arm as he sat down. I turned my head, wondering who might disturb me in a chapel in the middle of the night to see it was a priest. He was dressed in a black cassock, white collar around his neck with a Holy Bible in his hands.

He gave me a smile, as he took in my leather pants and crop top, but he didn't seem angry that I broke into church. "I don't encounter many people who so desire to be in church that they'll break in," he told me, voice somewhat high pitched for a man.

I hung my head, wondered briefly if he would ask me to leave when he settled himself a bit more comfortably in the pew. "You look lost to the world," he said, his face becoming concerned as he studied me. "What troubles you so much?"

Looking down at my T-back high heels, I told my story. Of being kidnapped from midnight mass at the Saint Martin of Tours church near UCLA by Simeon, to his goons raping me for almost a month straight. With shaking words, I told him of running naked down an alley and Simeon running me down and turning me into a vampire. I couldn't bring myself to look the priest in the eyes to see if he believed me or not, so I continued on, telling him about my first kill when I drained one of his goons of blood.

The priest offered no word, just sat listening as I told him being sent by the prince to the Santa Monica, meeting Mercurio then finding Heather dying in the clinic and giving her my blood to keep her from dying, and of meeting and killing Dennis and his cronies before giving Brian an ultimatum to become my ghoul or perish like his friends.

One by one, I told the priest of every action I had taken in the past few weeks. When I told him of Celeste kidnapping my ghouls and their state when I found each one of them, he let out a silent, "My word," at the details. I told him of Brian's suicide over his ruined state, and Heather's violent freak out at hers. When I told him that I had cradled her and comforted her to calm her down to put a bullet in her head, his bible fell to the floor with a thump.

"Heavens," he said, almost breathless as if he'd been afraid to breathe.

When I told him of finding and killing Celeste, then digging up the body of Sharron, I finally found the strength to look at the priest I had been confessing to and see the utter shock on the man's face. If it was from the fact that I was kindred or the story I had told him wasn't easy to decipher, but either way, the look was chilling.

"The other body, the one of Meredith Coates," he said, after forcing himself back to some form of normalcy, "What happened to her?"

"Celeste made her into a vampire, to wake up in a coffin and freak out," I told him. "I calmed her down, and she's with another to learn what she needs to learn." I hadn't told the priest everything, the desire to protect the masquerade still going strong, but I had told him what I'd done.

"So, you come here to seek absolution?" he asked, once he had himself under control again.

"I just feel so hollow inside," I told him, looking at the crucifix attached to the far wall behind the pulpit. "Since being turned into a vampire, I've done things I shouldn't ever be forced to do and I feel so lost."

"God has not abandoned you, my child," he said, trying to comfort me. "But euthanasia is banned by the church for a reason. No matter how well intentioned your actions, you did still kill Heather Poe."

"I know," I breathed, hanging my head.

"And this Brian character, to rip him from any life he may have had, as well as Sharron Carter, just to serve your own selfish needs," he told me. "It may sound cliché, but God does give us the gift of choice, and your blood robs people of this."

"I know," I whispered, wondering if he were going to excommunicate me for my sins. I wouldn't blame him if he did, but hearing the words would be painful.

"I don't think you should ever make a person a ghoul again, whether they want to be or not," he told me, and I was stunned. No ghouls? "I take it you don't approve?"

"Actually, I was already planning on freeing one ghoul and maybe the other I still have," I said, turning my head back to the priest and giving him a smile. "I'm finding that ghouls are as much a liability as they are a help."

The priest relaxed beside me and I found it shocking I hadn't noticed him tense. "It's a relief," he said, smiling back at me. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

That took me aback, and then it made it sense. "You're a hunter?" I asked him.

"Formerly," he said, giving a slight shake of his head. "I quit some fifteen years ago."

"Might I ask why?"

"There was a young man I hunted in Kansas City," he began. "I was put on his trail by the Society, when they began to suspect him of being a vampire. He was young, a drug dealer I would find out, but we had tagged him as being supernatural when he was shot several times by cops and didn't seem fazed. I found him one night, dealing drugs in an alleyway and engaged him, but he was fast. He outran me at first."

"How did you catch him?" I asked, getting a sheepish smile from the priest.

"One must be smarter than their prey if they are hunting a more powerful species," he said in an almost mocking tone. "My first shot was always a tracker, allowing me to track the man down, with several more shots behind it to shroud the true nature of what I had done. I tracked him all night long in what eventually became a car chase. I used my pickups steel bumper to crash him, but in his desperation to escape, he jumped the divider to the other side and hit a car head on making both cars fell off the bridge onto a set of railroad tracks.

"I watched in horror as the train bore down on them, the family that was in the other car trying to escape. The father and mother got out without much help, but the vampire ripped the car apart to free a little girl, pushing her to safety before the train hit him."

"He saved the girl at the cost of his own life?" I said, not so much a question but as a statement of fact.

"The tracker still worked, and after the train ground to a halt, I went down and checked," he said, closing his eyes at the memories he was relieving. "I found the tracker amid the ash of the vampire, but I realized I had been oblivious to the horror I had caused."

I watched a tear leak out of the corner of his eye, and wondered briefly if there was a second child in the car. It took a moment but the priest finally continued on.

"I sometimes hear the mother's screams in my sleep, as she wept for what she thought was her daughter's life. It was in that moment I knew my bloodlust had gotten the better of me. I decided it was over, that I would have to concentrate on more productive things. I climbed over the train's connectors, found the girl where she had fallen, and carried her to her grieving mother.

"She was so happy her daughter was alive, that she refused to believe I hadn't done it, that I was being modest, but I told her it wasn't me. I don't know if she ever believed me, but I refused to hunt again after that. I devoted my life to good works, to saving people."

I nodded, glad he had at least done some good for people, then found I was feeling something besides the emptiness from before.

"But back to the matter at hand," he said, clearing his throat and looking at me again. "Do you feel so lost now?"

"No," I admitted, giving him a wan smile. "But now I guess I just have to find the best way of moving forward."

The priest gave a soft chuckle at that. I gave him a questioning look, and he smiled broadly. "You know, given your obvious dedication, I'd say you should start a convent."

"A convent?" I asked, him shocked at the idea. Me? A nun?

"Well, the term is not directly tied to the church," he said, rubbing at his collar as if he were uneasy about something. "Many convents run themselves without any type of papal authority or help, but they commit themselves to an idea, mostly helping others through education and healing. It can be difficult, sisters would grow gardens and crops and tend cows, chickens and sheep to provide everything they needed. The main idea though, was that they devoted their lives to doing God's work and consecrated everything to Him.

"Also, in a convent you'd be somewhat shielded from the world and it's problems," he continued as I sat their stunned at his idea. "You could devote yourself better to God's teachings."

"You're saying I should start a convent and feed from any sisters I gather?" I said trying to wrap my mind around his idea. The priest nodded, and I sat there and thought it over.

The problem was, it wasn't a terrible idea. The idea of a kindred secluding themselves away from the world seemed terrible at first, but then I remembered the blood bags that Lacroix kept in the tower, and the blood Michele herself drank from. Humans weren't kept around for feeding, all I really needed was to get blood shipped in and store it as I used to store food.

Then I remembered my newfound status as a Methuselah, and sobered a bit, but then my brain found the workaround. I might not be able to feed from blood bags, but my deal with Eloise meant she could and I could feed from her. Remembering that led me to the chantry, and I realized that kindred had been doing it for ages. Michele herself said that rich kindred used to seclude themselves in estates with kine noblemen for frontmen, using their status to keep blood handy in the form of criminals and the insane.

Smiling, I could see it come together in my mind. Make a compound and lure Eloise and Meredith to it with the offer of blood and protection. I was still in tight with the prince, though I still didn't like his methods, but he was turning a bit. If I could get enough favor, I might get Strauss to leave us alone, allowing us to grow.

All I had to do was provide for Yukie, if she even decided to stay on as my ghoul and not want to be freed, but that was easy. She could be the front for our convent, even add a Japanese garden for aesthetic purposes, but make it a place of healing the soul and finding peace, things I wanted in my life. Though I didn't know enough, I was sure that Yukie would go for it as it aligned more with the concepts of Buddhism of overcoming suffering and rebirth.

With my thoughts aligned, if still a bit blurry on the final product, I nodded my head in acceptance with a smile on my face. The priest seemed happy as well, sharing my smile.

"I see you have found peace again," he said. "God's peace, perhaps?"

"Definitely," I said, thinking that when I had the finished product ready to go, the city could go to hell, as long as it remained outside the convent's walls.

"God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His Son," he began, giving me the traditional words of absolution as we finished my confession. I sat, smiling at the peace I had and the completeness I now felt. The words were comforting, giving me the absolution I came for.

When he stood to leave, he looked back at me. "I do have one last thing for you to do, though I'm sure you'll do it anyway," he said, looking at me. "Find your friend, Samantha. Bring her home, no matter what state she's in."

"I will, father," I told him, rising to stand beside him. It was surprising to see I stood just a few inches taller than him, though I did have on four inch heels. "When I find her, she comes home."

He gave me a nod, as we began to walk towards the door, though we shared no words. I knew there were things I needed to do, and pulling out my phone, saw that it was now just past five in the morning. Time was getting short for the night, so without warning, jumped back to the tower.

Looking around the lobby, I headed straight for Walsh's office, finding the man at his desk, where Rochelle was having him sign multiple forms. I always found it odd that though Walsh was essentially the Under-Sheriff of the county, he was always engaged in business. Must be a Ventrue thing.

"Ah, Miss Flores," he said, after I knocked lightly on the door frame to announce my presence. "We have the paperwork to finalize the insurance adjustment for the Pryce estate. There's no further financial cost to you, however, there is no benefit either."

"Essentially you're writing off my brief stay as rent and recouping the loss of the house from insurance and keeping the land," I said, summarizing what I'd already surmised. "Guess I can't argue that."

"Then we are agreed," he said as Rochelle laid out some paperwork with the little arrows attached to indicate where I needed to sign. Walsh lent me his pen, and I signed off on all the paperwork.

"Wouldn't happen to have any more land for sale?" I asked him. "Just land this time, I have something I want to build."

"Anything in mind?" he asked me.

"Ten or twenty acres, I want to build a large mansion with designs for better security, a large library and having kindred living in it," I told him. "I'm thinking of also building a large wall around it, building a garden for a little peace, and settling myself in for the long haul."

"The way of a kindred politician," he said we a bemused grin on his face. "Walls for security, security for privacy, privacy means the fewer people see your face and can figure out your secret. I have a few tracts of land, up near Ventura. It's farmland, but that just means you have fertile ground for your garden. Miss Sciuto, can you get me the deeds for my properties in Ventura?"

"Yes, sir," she said, before leaving the office.

"Any luck on finding the rest of the Sabbat?" I asked him, fishing for a lead on where Samantha had been taken.

"No, but the Nosferatu are looking," he told me. "I used to think there was nothing they couldn't find, but in the past week, they have become unreliable as a source of information."

"How so?" I asked him, wondering if Gary was working against the prince as well. It would make for an ally in a pinch.

"They remain unable to find Mister Rodriguez," he told me. "He has been seen in several areas of the city, according to reports from trusted sources, but other than that no trace of the man can be found."

"And I assume following known Anarchs hasn't yielded any progress either?"

"None whatsoever," he said, relaxing into his chair. "I hate the idea of a known threat living in the city and hiding so well he can't be found until after the fact."

"And the Sabbat?"

"The Sabbat has changed the way it operates, using vans for their 'assualt' to keep the more unruly of their minions in line," he told me. "This also keeps them hidden, as we used to just follow the violence back to their 'nests.' Celeste Evans had hers well defended, which was why we couldn't route it out so easily."

"So, there's no way of discovering where the Sabbat are holed up until they make a mistake?" I said, shaking my head. "What's the likelihood of my friend Samantha surviving being their guest of honor?"

"I'd rather see her hang then be in the Sabbat's hands for an hour," he told me as Rochelle came back in with a large folder in her hands. "The Sabbat are cruel, you're embrace being a prime example. This Andrei," he said, then shook his head. "They have a power called Vicissitude, it allows them to bend bone and flesh like clay. They can even make the body operate in weird ways, and the way people think."

"You mean he could turn Samantha against me?" I said, but Walsh just shrugged.

"It's likely, but unknown," he admitted. "I have seen reports of them using their abilities to turn once proud businessmen into low-class whoremongers. They were useless after that, caring more for drink and women than their money. They died broke men."

"So if he gets a hold of Samantha, he can strip her of her pride?" I asked him.

"She would be better off dead," he told me.

I shook my head as Walsh began to sort through the deeds, looking for what he wanted. I couldn't help but feel sorry for Sammie. It didn't matter though, I set my brain to bring Sammie home no matter what. She didn't deserve to be left in a madman's hands. If she were reduced to nothing but a crack whore, I'd still bring her home and having a secure place of peace and healing might help her.

And a former hunter for a ghoul sure wouldn't hurt to make sure she didn't run away.

"I have several properties," he said, laying out the deeds for me. I looked them over, reading the various contracts that some had. "Unfortunately, you'll have to abide by the contracts that come with a property you buy, meaning you may have to wait out a lease."

"That's the least of my worry," I told him, setting those aside. That left me with two pieces of property, the smaller one was nine acres and was located in Oxnard, not too far from the city. The other was in Somis, and was about twenty. Both were farmland, but the contracts seemed to have run out and were up for lease again.

"This other one isn't farmland, but it is up for sale," he said, sliding it over to me. It was a golf course in Gardena, which was right next to Compton. It was expensive, almost fifty million, but it covered two hundred fifty acres in the middle of the city.

"Why is it up for sale?" I asked him.

"Caring for the grass has become so expensive with water shortages that put the place up for sale," he told me. "I thought I might try the game, but it holds no appeal. Besides, all people of importance meet at clubs in Beverly Hills and the surrounding area. This one is too far away to attract much besides the middle class."

"It works for my interests," I said mulling it over.

Rochelle handed me a paper holder full of pictures, which I found to be pictures of the golf course and attached lands. Most of the pictures were of the green, but some showed a large pond on one side with several smaller water hazards on the property. The grass wasn't as manicured as I'd seen in the clubs frequented by the rich where I once worked, but they were decent. One of the last pictures was an overview taken from a helicopter, and I could see how things were situated, it would make a wonderful place to live with the right groundskeeper.

Still, as I shuffled back through the pictures, it was going to be a years worth of work to build what I wanted on it, and years more to cultivate the grounds into the enhanced state of a thriving garden with rock lined ponds where pretty fish swam contentedly in shaded water, not to mention the ripping out of unneeded buildings, shrubbery, trees and walkways. It was going to take a lot of effort, but it wasn't like I was running out of time.

The location worked for me, inside the city and close to everything, I'd have water close by to sooth my blood, and large enough to not need to leave and still have some creature comforts. Plus, if I ever got the support to be made a primogen, I'd need to be available to what few kindred would want or need to see me.

"It'll work," I said, nodding my head. It looked like I had crossed the first hurdle to starting a convent, find a place to put it.

"We'll get the paperwork drawn up, and you can drop by another night to sign it," he told me. "There's no rush, no one is interested in buying it."

"Seems cheap, actually," I said, noting that fifty million was cheap for that much property.

"I actually acquired it some months ago from a young Ventrue," Walsh said, smiling as his eyes grew misty. "Poor fool made a rather foolish investment, then needed cash to bail himself out."

"Why not dip into the endless Ventrue funds?" I asked him.

"He was riding a high of popularity at the time," he said, his smile broad. "But, like large corporations have done for years, I had to smack the little upstart down."

"So what did you do?" I asked him.

"I gave him a low price for the club, about ten million dollars, and then floated a cheap loan to his competitor," he told me. "The pup needed the money to secure his position for a military contract. He'd impressed many and was a serious contender for the position of scourge with the prince. I floated the loan and saw a Ventrue pup get ripped apart by a kine businessman. His popularity fell apart when that gossip was spread through the city."

"So, what did you do for the businessman who beat him?" I asked him, and he chuckled.

"The clan was willing to show him how small his thinking was," he told me. "He accepted our offer and currently works with Mueller learning how we operate."

"What happened to the pup?"

"He's rebuilding his little empire after taking three hundred million from Ventrue funds and moving to Texas," he told me, still smiling.

"How are things going with Mueller?" I asked, wondering how things were going since I had emptied his bank account.

"He has four days to acquire a hundred million for his collateral in a loan, and at last check, only a percentage of it in his bank account," he said, his smile still plastered on his face. "After that, I can secure the collateral with no problem and move past him. The profits alone are enough to get me into the billion range."

"Oh, one last thing," I said, standing up. "I need to make a cash withdrawal on my account to get some operating funds going."

Walsh opened a drawer on his desk with a key, reached inside and then tossed me a stack of hundred dollar bills in a currency strap. Checking the strap, it said it was worth ten thousand dollars.

"Need more?" he said, holding up a second.

"Sure," I said, slightly stunned as he tossed me a second. The man was a banker alright.

"You have passed 'go' and may collect twenty thousand dollars," he said as he smiled. "I wish you well," he said as I turned and walked out the door. In the lobby, I pocketed the bundles in each of my pants pockets.

Riding the elevator down, I made up my mind to check on my Ninja before going back to the motel room. I rode down, my mind going to my upcoming convent. I guess the best way of looking at it, I was becoming a sister, and I was fine with that.

Catching a cab, I rode it down to the Ride or Die club, finding it was a biker bar hangout with its own motorcycle repair shop attached. My Ninja stood out front, still sitting on flat tires and I could only shake my head at the side sight. Men were still moving around, doing their best to get drunk before the sun rose. I was quickly noticed, a big bruiser of a man carrying a beer bottle coming over.

"We're not going to ride today, sweetheart," he called to me. "Try again tomorrow."

"I'm here about the Ninja," I told him, and he grimaced. "Needs tires?"

"Yeah," he said, turning to look at my bike. "You trailer trash, wannabe? Or do you actually intend to ride that thing?"

"I ride," I told him, getting defensive. "Want to hit the twists, sometime? Hope you can keep up with that granny of a ride when I pass the ton."

Yeah, it seems dumb to antagonize these guys, but personal experience has taught me that if you start backing up, you'll never get going forward. My experience paid off, and the guy smiled and laughed.

"Yeah, you got the grit, alright," he said, taking a swig. "What kind of tires you want?"

"Something with good traction," I told him. "Money isn't a problem, so if you need to order something, that's fine."

"We might have to anyway," he said, nodding at me. "I don't think we have your size, being a crotch rocket and all."

"That's fine," I said. "Sharron said she knew someone who could get some wicked rims on it, also."

"Uh, yeah," he said, moving to the shop. "We can have new rims made and installed by Friday morning. All we need to know from you is what style, and you can select from hundreds in our catalogue."

"All custom made for my Ninja," I said, nodding my head.

He led me inside the building, and showed me the catalogue. I looked through the set, finding a style that looked like small curved blades going from the hub to the exterior rim. The rear rim would match, and the tires were a set of a triple compounded tire designed for racing but were street legal, giving me great traction and speed capability, even if the tires cost four hundred a piece.

All in all, I spent maybe four grand on getting my bike going, the guy guaranteeing it would be ready on Friday. With everything set, I decided to step back to the motel, but a quick look around told me I'd be missed if I just stepped out in public.

"You got a bathroom?" I asked and he nodded.

"Behind the Bud sign," he said, pointing me to the Budweiser sign that turned on each syllable before flashing off again.

I went inside, blanching a bit at the 'wallpaper.' The small was covered in naked women in provocative poses, from the door around and behind the mirror, the toilet and back to the door again from ceiling to floor. I looked at the debauched scene for a moment, before shaking my head and stepping out to my room. Music still blared from the party, so I looked out to see most of the crew of Four-Play still living it large.

I quickly shed my clothes, putting on the borrowed bikini from earlier and wrapped towel around my lower half. I stepped out of the room, the room's key held in my top and got a roar of welcome from the girls, all of them now so drunk that one set of three girls I knew as Star, Scarlett and Ice could barely walk even as they supported and steadied each other.

Looking around, I saw Meredith and Eloise sitting on a pair of chaise lounges, both girls in bikinis, though Eloise was in a red one piece while Meredith had a two piece string of pure white. I walked closer, getting a smile from Meredith when she recognized me.

"Any luck?" she asked as I sat on the edge of her lounger.

"None," I told her. "Even the Nos don't have any clues where the rest are."

"Nos?" she said, then nodded. "Ella told me about the different clans, though I've only met you, Jean and Walsh."

"We'll get you acclamated," I told her assuringly. "Be glad you have the time to learn before you have to walk on your own. I learned the hard way."

"I couldn't imagine," she said, her smile lacking. "My real training starts tonight, so this is sort of a fling for me before I dedicate myself to the books."

"You need to learn the Path of Blood before you start dealing with people," Eloise told her. "It's basic survival."

"And mind control and reading minds," she said, pouting.

"Tremere can do all that?" I asked, and Eloise nodded.

"I think the reading of minds is a hold over from our mage days, when we used to need to know countercurses to survive attacks," she said, shaking her head. "It's not entirely useful, not in a fight, but it can make negotiations easier."

"So, what are your future plans?" I asked the pair.

"I go where she goes," Meredith said quickly.

"And I have no home outside of the chantry," she said. "I'm going to be sleeping on the couch, but I guess we'll have to figure out some way of making money to afford our own place."

"Well, I don't mean to be the spoil sport, but you," I said, pointing a finger at Eloise, "still owe me for testifying to your lord."

"I was hoping you'd let that slide," she said blanching at my stern gaze. "I don't have the blood to replace my supply after you feed."

"Any ideas on where to get some?" I asked her, and she shrugged.

"I can put out some feelers, start seeing if anyone can point me to a blood supply, but I imagine I'll have to hit a bar or street corner for a meal in the meantime," she said. "Since I need to teach Mer here how to survive, she can come with me."

"I'll ask around tomorrow," I told her. "Until then, I'll let you two in on a secret project of mine."

"Secrets are the clan's business," Meredith said sadly.

"I'm building a convent to sequester myself away," I told the pair. "I'm willing to let you two live there, I'll provide you both with blood to live on, and all I ask is that you let me feed from you as I need it."

"Why don't you feed from the same blood as us?" Meredith asked.

"She had an experience with her clans founder," Eloise told her. "He tried to possess her body, changing it be like his. When she kicked him out, it left her with very potent blood. It also made her need to feed on kindred instead of kine."

"That sucks," she said, shaking her head. "So I'll eventually need to feed from kindred too?"

"Only if you live a thousand years or so," she said.

"What happens to her in a thousand years?" Meredith asked.

"What happens to us all," she said, sighing and shaking her head. "What happens to all immortals in time. You grow disconnected from the world, lethargic, and then one day you don't wake up."

"You mean I die in my sleep?" I said, thinking it sounded like human old age.

"Not dead, just asleep," she said, looking at me. "You're body will enter, basically, hibernation and shut down. They say that's what's in the Ankaran Sarcophagus, a sleeping ancient from millennia ago."

"What could happen if he rises?" I asked her, and she shrugged.

"No idea," she said honestly. "There's no telling what clan he is, or generation. He could be a lost clan for that matter; Cappodocian or Salubri or one we've never heard of. For that matter, it might be Caine himself. It could also be a kindred so dangerous he was staked and buried as a punishment, but not outright killed because of political issues."

"So opening it up might not be a good idea," I said, hanging my head.

"If you do, I suggest middle of the desert and a vehicle handy to make your escape," she said seriously.

"I'll take that under advisement," I muttered, worried now that my finding the sarcophagus could be such a big problem.

"So, a convent, huh," Eloise said, changing the subject again. "Going to become a nun?"

"Well, I'm not seeking the Pope's permission, so not exactly, but close," I told her. "What I'm building is a place of healing. Might allow people to join us on the grounds, but that's more along the lines of needing the help for the upkeep. If it seems like a jumbled mess, it's because all I have is a general idea, and not written everything out. Guess you might call it a halfway house for the battered, but," I said, shrugging as I didn't know where I wanted to take it.

"I like the idea," Meredith said. "But we're going to need to make sure us kindred are kept separate from the group so they don't figure us out."

"I was thinking of building a secure area for us to sleep during the day," I told them. "I'm already feeling the sun coming."

"Yeah," Eloise said, looking to the pinking sky. "I might stay up a bit, but there's no sense in fighting it."

"Wait, we can be up in the day?" I asked her and she nodded.

"Why don't you meet us tonight if you have nothing to do and I'll teach both of you to be kindred," she said, smirking at my shocked look.

"Sure," I said, thinking that would be a good idea. It would explain why Celeste could kidnap my ghouls, but I had assumed it was some form of magic she had used to just stay awake.

"My room is at the top of the stairs," she said, giving me directions. "It's one of the suites on the third floor. More like just a pair of rooms joined together, but it has room."

"I'll likely be there," I told her, when I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned to see someone unexpected, Yukie.

"I come at last," she said. I took in her appearance, her dress was clean, probably from being laundered by the hospital, but I could see where it had been cut from her body and was now held in place by safety pins. A white bandage bulged on her chest, and I could see the other one through the bullet hole. She looked good, standing on her own, but she seemed sad.

"Yukie, this is Meredith and Eloise," I said introducing the pair I was talking to. "They'll be coming to stay with us when we move."

"Greetings," she said, smiling at the pair.

"Well, the day approaches, and I've got things to talk to Yukie about," I told them. "I'll see you tonight."

"Night," Meredith said as I led Yukie back to my room. Once inside, she took in the bare motel room then nodded once.

"First off, do you still want to be my ghoul?" I asked her, and she hung her head.

"Hai," she said, nodding. "I have thought about it since you first let me go. You could have let me die, but you save me. You helped me hunt Hengeyokai, and kill him to avenge my sensei. My family is gone, killed by Hengeyokai, and now there is no one left to mourn me."

"Don't you even want to know what I'd ask of you?" I said.

"I," she began to say, then wrapped her arms around her middle. "I care, but I do not care. I feel terrible but I want to help you be stronger," she said, seeming agitated. "Why does it conflict me so to want to do this?"

"Because my blood is overriding your nature," I said, standing behind her and putting my arms around her. "You hate my kind, but now my blood is making you serve me and it's ripping you apart inside."

"Will it go away?" she asked, and I gave her a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, but this is the last time you have a choice," I told her. "After this, you are mine. If I tell you to kill, you will kill regardless of whom it is or if they are innocent. My word is becoming law in your mind and my blood is coursing through your veins."

"But you care for me," she said, sounding lost.

"You are, to me, a pet, a dog." I said, and she gave a hiccup. "You will love me unconditionally, even if I beat you, make you kill innocents, you will come back and curl up at my feet and beg for my continued favor," I told her, making what was coming sound worse than I'd ever do to her. I didn't want her to chose yes, but this was the only way.

"But you would care?" she asked weakly, and I think she began crying.

"Stroking your hair, giving you praise?" I said, and she seemed to vibrate. "Maybe. I may hardly ever be near you, seeing you only for a few minutes a day before I disappear for the night. I do have one mission I might send you on, hunting a vampire even as he hunts you. If you fail, you will die."

"But if I die, you will bury me?" she asked, her voice high. Yeah, she was definitely crying.

"Yes, and plant flowers on your grave," I told her.

"I, I will stay," she said, placing an arm over mine. "If I don't, I have no one. A lonely home I share with bugs, trying not to starve as I work meager job in skimpy dress."

""With me, that changes," I told her. "But I take everything. If you have a boyfriend, it will be with my blessing. If you want kids, you will ask me for permission. Your body and mind become mine, and what you were gets lost."

"I understand," she said, relaxing into me as she settled down.

"Come sit beside me," I said, and she joined me on the bed. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"Hai," she said, again nodding her head. "You've kept from dying, two times. I can think of nothing better."

"Alright then," I said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. At least now I knew where she was. "How are your wounds?"

"They are not so serious," she said. "They heal faster than should be possible, but it is difficult to lift my arm."

"It'll get better, I think," I told her. "My blood will heal all your wounds faster than should be possible. You should still be in the hospital."

"I feel you summon me," she said, almost crying again. "But nurses held me down, made me sleep. I'm sorry," she said, looking lost and hurt.

"It's okay," I told her, kissing her on the temple like my mom used to do when I came home crying. Guess Yukie was my own daughter now, in some ways. "You're forgiven."

"Thank you," she said, smiling for the first time this morning.

I began to think about sending her out for some clothes, both for herself then me. I needed something to wear tonight, preferably comfortable, and Yukie would also need to tend to her needs. The upcoming party at the Giovanni mansion weighed on me, but an idea hit me. I didn't need to go in personally to the party, just make sure the sarcophagus was there. In fact, it might be better if I wasn't seen.

I didn't need to be physically present, I mused, just have my consciousness there, and though I was Lasombra, I had access to dominate, dominate powerful enough to subplant a person's mind. I could do my own shopping, getting a few things for Yukie to allow her to shop tomorrow. At least this way, I wouldn't be counting on someone else's tastes. It'd also allow me to check and see how far I could push my dominate controlled puppet, to make sure I didn't need to be in the same room as the puppet.

"Yukie," I said, getting her attention. "I would like to do something."

"Yes?" she asked, looking at me.

"I have the ability subplant your conscious with my own, taking over your body," I explained to her. "It will allow to leave the motel room during the day so I can do my own shopping."

"What do you need me to do?" she asked.

"Just asking your permission," I told her. She nodded, and with a quick shove of my will, took her over to see my eyes roll up and fall back on the bed.

Standing, I moved to tuck my body into bed, leaving the borrowed bikini on to act like sleepwear. I was weaker than I was used to, but everything seemed to function normally. I took my phone, cash and motel room key and tucked it into Yukie's red purse. I went to the mirror, to check her composure and found her reflection blurred to the point I could only tell I was there.

Shaking my head in disgust, I went to the door. I looked back once on my sleeping body, seeing it tucked securely under the covers to further protect it from any stray sunlight and opened the door. Stepping out into the sun, I felt the warmth on my borrowed body, freezing for a moment to make sure I wasn't going to burn. When nothing happened, I smiled and called the cab company, requesting a cab. It was going to be a long day of shopping.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : Sorry this chapter took so long to get out, but I was having lots of problems with the confession and the priest's story and past. I wanted it to be right, making things flow, and still, some of it doesn't flow for me. So if it feels like a tangled mess, that's why. Also, I'm not Catholic, I'm Baptist, and I had to do lots of research to make that part right for my Catholic readers. I'm sure no one wants their religion misrepresented, and if there are any mistakes, just let me know.

Convents, by historical standard, are present in many religions, from Catholicism to Islam. I know, I looked. Eliza's will be non-denominational, so I may fudge a bit there. Advice is appreciated, as is ideas. The golf course was just a crazy idea of how to get a large tract of land inside the city that was useful, and there are golf courses in the town mentioned. One, anyway.

Hope everyone likes the chapter, and if life doesn't get too hectic, I will continue to update as often as I can. Not sure if I should showcase everything Eliza does in Yukie's body, or just make it a footnote at the beginning of the next chapter.

Love it, hate it? I won't know if you don't review!


	48. Chapter 48 - Walking in Sunlight

**Author's Note: The following is mostly a bit of a sleeper. Bring a cup of coffee...**

* * *

Chapter 48 – Walking in Sunlight

October 7, 2004 = Thursday

~Eliza Flores~

My first stop that morning was to an upscale shopping center. Since the stores weren't open yet, I stepped into the Starbucks for a latte and a scone, taking a seat to await the store openings. People kept staring at me, either for Yukie's young exotic hotness or the oddity of her dress being held together with safety pins, but I let it slide.

What I kept running over was what to do after getting dressed. I needed a vehicle, but my Ninja was in the shop. I went through Yukie's purse, trying to get a feel for her capabilities, and found her passport and what I could only guess was her drivers license, the latter being in Japanese which I couldn't read.

After thinking it over, I decided my best way forward was to rent a car, which if I offered her driver's license and her status as an out of towner shouldn't raise too many questions. The car would just be seen as her way of wanting to view more of the area, and would allow me to carry my purchases back to the motel. It would also give me a safe place to store things while I shopped.

That settled in my mind, and the stores opening up, I began my shopping. I went to a store that sold business suits and went inside. I didn't know Yukie's position on wearing pants, having always seen her in some sort of dress, but finally decided that since I was driving, it didn't matter. She didn't have to wear it later if she didn't like it, and I was only buying her a few changes. She could decide her own outfits tomorrow.

Strolling through the selection, I decided that if I were going to buy her a suit, I'd make it a nicer one and a three piece suit caught my eye. The mannequin was similar in size to Yukie, and the layout was very professional.

"Hello, miss," a woman in a gray dress suit said as she approached. "May I help you with something?"

"Um, yes," I said, looking back to the suit. I hadn't seen any suits on racks, so figured they were all in the back. Better to protect from thieves, I guess. "I would like a suit?"

"This particular style?" she asked and I nodded. She then pulled a yellow cloth tape from her jacket packet and moved closer. "I'll just take some measurements," she said as she began to measure various parts of my body.

When she had the measurements, she wanted, all written on a pad she kept on the inside of her jacket, she looked back to me. "Is there any particular color you would like? We have this in basic black, black pinstripe, light or dark blue, green, and light or dark gray."

"Dark blue," I said and she left for the rear room. When she come back, she had a suit draped over her arm.

"Will that be all?" she asked, as she handed me the suit to inspect.

"Um, shirt?" I asked and she nodded.

"Which color?" she asked, pointing me to a wall. They were arranged by color, and assuming size, but I couldn't read the labels from where I stood.

"White," I said, and she went and retrieved the color for me. I drifted to the selection of bows and ties they had available, selecting a red striped tie for a splash of color.

"Would you like to try it on?" she asked me when she returned with the shirt.

"Sure," I said, not knowing if the sizes picked out were right, but trusting the salesperson wasn't intentionally misleading me.

She led me into a dressing room, where I slipped out of the tight fitting dress Yukie had been wearing. One look into the mirror though, and I knew I was going to be making a second trip before I changed into the suit for the day. Yukie's bra had also been cut, the straps held together by safety pins like her dress. I looked down at her hips, seeing her panties were about the only thing that hadn't been cut.

Sighing, I started to dress myself in the suit, finding it form hugging but comfortable. I had to admit, the lady knew her business as not a single thing she had given me to wear had an improper fit. Looking at Yukie's body in the mirror, I liked what I saw.

Stepping out, the salesperson gave a beaming smile. "That looks great on you," she said appreciably. "There's just one thing..."

I watched her head over to a rack, shuffle through several cards hanging from it, then coome back with a set of cufflinks. They were gold with a ruby set in more gold lined by black, and she undid my cuffs and installed the cufflinks. I thought she was done when she pulled four more from the card, inserting them into the top four holes on my shirt. When I looked back to the mirror, the difference was striking, moving me from wannabe professional to elite player.

Player for what, I had no idea.

"I'll take it," I said, stepping back into the changing room to take it off. I left the cufflinks where they were, as I'd be back in the suit just as soon as I picked up a replacement bra. Stepping back in Yukie's dress, I paid for the purchases in cash, then left the store with the suit in a garment bag over my arm.

I headed straight for Victoria's Secret, and began searching the bra section for a replacement. I wasn't there a minute before a tall and lanky blond ghosted up behind me. "I'd recommend a bralette," she said, and I turned to face her. "With your physique, it should give you all the comfort and support you'd need."

"Have it in white lace?" I asked, wanting to pick a color that wouldn't stand out under the white dess shirt if I ever had to take the vest off.

She led me a few isles over, showing me a matching set. I liked the look, even if the hipster panties would show off everything. Taking the set into the dressing room, I slipped them on and admired the way the set held Yukie's boobs. She was ample for her petite frame, but the bralette gave them a good definition.

The only problem was Yukie was Japanese and apparently they shared a lot with the French. I shook my head, knowing it was one more thing I would have to take care of before I could really start my day. Putting Yukie's clothes back on, I stepped out and paid for the set, then walked over to a kiosk and found a salon.

There were two attendants who were talking when I walked in, and the red haired one came over. "May I help you , miss?"

"I need waxed, and also have my hair and nails done," I told her.

"Right this way," she said, leading me into a backroom. I stepped inside, and she stood in the doorway. "Take off your clothes, lay face up on the bed, and cover yourself with a towel. I'll be right back," she said, shutting the door.

I did as she requested, wondering if this might affect my possession of Yukie. Shrugging off any thoughts of problems, I laid myself out on the bed, covering myself with a towel, and waited for the attendant. When she came back in, she rolled the towel enough to show my bare legs. She then opened a container where the wax was held, and began coating my legs. It burned briefly, hot wax on exposed skin does that, but cooled quickly prompting the attendant to quickly apply the cloth strip. When it cooled, she then ripped it off my leg.

"Ow!" I said as my leg jerked from the pain. It turned into a grueling session, as she stripped Yukie's body of hair. When it was done though, her skin was smooth.

"I'll let you get dressed," she said, shutting everything away.

I nodded my thanks, then started to dress myself in my new clothes, starting with the bra and panty set. The panties fit much better, hugging Yukie's hips and showing off her young curves. I didn't have access to a mirror, but from what I could see by craning my neck, Yukie looked more like a model now than a hunter. The suit was next, again fitting like a glove. I then slipped Yukie's shoes on, noting their lack of luster with a grimace. Looks like I'd be shopping by a shoe store.

I then placed all of Yukie's old clothes in the bag from Victoria's Secret to be disposed of later. Stepping out the door, the attendant led me to a chair where she laid me back and began washing Yukie's hair. I knew it was part of the process, so let them work. It didn't take long to have my hair washed, shampooed and volumized, then they began to work on Yukie's nails. When they were done, I looked at Yukie's reflection, liking the effect. With her hair done, Yukie truly looked great.

Paying the attendant, I then left the store, heading for a nearby shoe store. Heading into the ladies section, I used a size finder to find Yukie's shoe size and started checking for appreciable shoes, quickly finding a Chelsea boot with a large three inch boot heel and not one of those spiky things that was hard to balance on. After taking a seat and trying it on, and finding it a comfortable fit, I slipped the other one on.

Rising to my feet, I checked the feel as I walked and found them comfortable. They weren't the most stylish footwear, but they went well with the suit and the heels. I put them back in the box, put Yukie's blah black flats back on and paid for the shoes. I hit the first bench after leaving the store, and slipped the heels back on, putting Yukie's flats in the box.

Now that I had her properly dressed, I looked around the shops. I could start my shopping for my own clothes now, but the bag and box containing Yukie's old outfit was already heavy on her arm. I needed a way to haul it all back to the motel. I needed a car.

Pulling my phone, I called the taxi company who assured me a taxi was waiting by the door. I quickly found it, and had him take me to a car rental place. The place he pulled in front of had cars of all kinds out front, and I paid the driver off after he dropped me off at the door. When I left here, it'd be behind the wheel rather than as a passenger.

Going inside, a young woman with a turquoise highlight in her blonde hair approached me, a big smile on her face. "May I help you?"

"I need a car," I told her.

"Any specific model?" she asked me.

"Honda?"

"Sure, we have several models of Honda," she said, going to a nearby computer. "Sedan, SUV, minivan, or sports car?"

"Um, car?" I said, not understanding the terms she was using.

"Sedan," she said, slightly correcting me. "Two or four doors?"

"Four," I told her. "And automatic transmission."

"We have several models that match those criteria," she told me. "As such, I can offer championship white, rallye red, sunlight yellow, nighthawk black or blue pearl."

"Blue pearl," I told her. Red was too much of an eye catcher, white was too common, as was black, which left blue. Had to remember that a Civic was the most commonly stolen car.

"Okay, it's a hundred fifty a week, or five hundred a month," she told me.

I counted out five hundred dollar bills and gave them to her, along with Yukie's unreadable driver's license. "Oh, you're a tourist," she said, smiling and doing her best to give nothing away. "I'll take a copy and be right back."

I waited while she did her business, then she brought me back a lease agreement and Yukie's license. I signed off on the agreement, writing Yukie's name in English script. I had checked her papers, finding her name written in English on her passport, but that was the only version I could read. Anything else was in Japanese script which I couldn't read.

Taking the proffered key and a copy of the agreement, I went out to the car and slid into the passenger seat. Starting the car, I went back to the mall and parked it near the door. Going in, I started doing the shopping for myself. It was easy, since I knew all my sizes, and headed back to Victoria's Secret.

Inside the store, I bought myself a range of bra and pantie sets. With that done, I then headed to a nearby store and purchased some T-shirts, and shorts, before going by the shoe store and picking out a pair of sneakers and some heels at two and four inches. My arms heavy with recent purchases, I headed back to the car and stowed everything in the trunk.

Going back inside, I headed back to the suit place, getting a different salesman this time. He helped me pick out several suits, two pantsuits of gray and blue and a dress suit of purple. I stowed these purchases as well, before returning to the stores. I bought some other clothes, several pairs of blended fabric pants for casual wear along with various blouses and button up shirts to go with it. My suits had their own shirts, with an extra flap to hold the studs over the buttonholes, so I didn't worry about that.

With the latest purchases stowed away, I went looking for a Gothic store, but didn't find one in the mall. I checked the yellow pages, finding a Gothic store not far away. I drove over, finding it a boring brown building that didn't have one outstanding feature on the outside. Going in though, was night and day. The walls were done in black velvet, and the name of the game seemed to be leather and chrome. On display in the middle of the room was a set of coffins, open to show their satin interiors.

I couldn't help but smile at the coffins, and went closer to look them over. They were well apportioned, and were more like enclosed beds. I studied it, and wondered if it could be locked from the inside. If it could, it'd make me more secure during the day when I was vulnerable. It was one thing I was more or less willing to sacrifice for my continued existence, satin sheets for a coffin.

As I studied the coffins, a woman in heavy Gothic makeup made her way over to me. "Need any help?"

"I was just studying the coffins," I told her. "I was thinking of buying one."

That got a smile out of her. "You don't look like you're into the Goth scene."

"Considering the bad rap most Goths get, can you blame me," I told her and she nodded her head solemnly.

"I hear ya on that," she said and turned to the coffins. "So, first coffin?"

"Yes," I told her, thinking I probably should be somewhat truthful. "I wanted something I could lock from the inside so I'd be protected while I sleep."

"Not afraid of tight spaces, are ya?" she asked, then hit a lever that lowered the coffin enough for me to slide into it. "Hop in, try it out."

I did, finding the bedding was very comfortable foam. Once I was settled in, she closed the lid on me. I knew that my own experience would be different, but I didn't feel scared at being closed in. I waited for several long minutes, but when I didn't burst out, I finally felt for the latch, and didn't find one.

"Um, how do you get out?" I called out to the girl. The lid opened, and the assistant just smiled at me.

"There's no latch on these," she told me. From where I lie, I could see she was telling the truth. It was all smooth wood. "Something about you can't lock someone in because kids die in fridges or something. You have to install the lock yourself or buy it custom made."

"That works," I said, swinging my legs out to sit on it as I would a bench. "How much do these cost?"

"Depends on what you want," she said as I slid to my heels. "These are actually for sale by a friend of mine. I'm just handling things. If you want, I can get you in touch with him."

"I would love that," I told her, a smile on my face. "In the meantime, I wanted to a little something for a close friend of mine."

"Male or female?" she asked me.

"Female," I said, giving her my sizes.

"Hmm, it's refreshing to meet someone who doesn't mind loving another woman," she said as she led me deeper into the store. When we entered the back room though, I realized she was completely misreading my intentions.

Looking around the room of sex and videos, I couldn't help but wonder about Samantha. She had intentions like the one the woman thought I had, but Sammie never acted on any of them. She was content to lie back and let me find my own way. Now, though, I had to wonder where on the spectrum I lay.

When she kept walking over to the clothes racks though, something my virgin eyes hadn't noticed past all the smut. She pulled out a black silk nightie, though, and held it up for me to look at. I felt the material, the smoothness of the silk like milk on my skin. It wasn't one of those paper thin numbers where your nipples were visible, but an honest nightie I could wear around the house.

"Well worth the money," she told me as I took it and looked it over. It would fit me, being my size and all, and I nodded my head in approval. It was maybe the one thing I hadn't gotten while at the mall, and did sort of need.

"I'll take it," I told her, then looked around. We were too close to the wall containing sex paraphernalia, and I couldn't help but notice some of their bright packaging. The Gothic girl with me noticed my gaze, then picked one up that seemed to have a cock on a belt.

"Oh, these are awesome," she said, sniggering. "But," she said, putting it back and going down a shelf to pick up another similar one. "This one will definitely make her scream. It does me."

She handed me the package, and it was indeed a cock on a belt, or according to the packaging, a strap-on. The size on it though almost had me laughing at the sheer silliness of it, as it seemed way too large for it to be based on any man's tool. Holding it though, made me think of Sammie and if she ever intended to use it on me.

"It's a bit big, isn't it?" I asked her, deciding to try and say something and not make it more awkward.

"A little,' she said, nodding her head. "Your first time with one, isn't it?"

"Yes," I told her, feeling very insecure with such a big thing in my hand.

"Might try this one, then," she told me, handing me another one. The packaging was see through on it, allowing me to see the strap-on inside. It was large, but I'd at least heard of cocks that big before. Checking the packaging, I could see how it belted around the waist like a thong with the cock sticking out like a hardened cock.

"How well does it work?" I asked her, my eyes glued to the package.

"Just like having a real one," she told me. I gave her a nod, but couldn't help feel bad for wondering about using it with Sammie. It went against everything I was ever taught as a Catholic, but, I did love the woman, maybe more than I was supposed to.

In the end, I could only nod my head, deciding that if nothing else, it was a promise to her that I would bring her home. I had to find her, and promised myself that I would.

"Your friend must be pretty special to you," she said, as we moved out of the back room.

"She is," I told her, looking over the front part of the store.

"Does she feel the same way about you?"

"Yes, though I just recently learned of it," I told the Goth. "I had a pretty big blind spot where she was concerned. We'd been friends for years, but I never noticed it before."

"Want some advice?" she asked, and I nodded.

"Don't force the situation," she told me. "Invite her over for a nice meal, some conversation, and lots of wine. Just talk, don't force anything, let the conversation have its own life. If, or more like when, it comes up, just let it happen. When it does start, just flow with it, but don't force yourself down it. You'll hate yourself if you force it."

"Thanks," I told her, giving her a smile as we walked for the door. I saw the bondage gear on the way out, picking up a new set of leather bed restraints and getting a raised eyebrow from the attendant. "Boyfriend broke my last set," I lied, and she laughed. "Now, about some leather," I said, steering things back to where I needed them to be.

After that, I managed to find a few things I knew the store would stock, among them a heavy leather duster that could stand up on its own if propped up right. The other being leather pants and leather shirts that weren't designed to be sexy, but covered up my skin without advertising my underwear to the world.

My leathers bought and the name of the Goth's friend written down, I packed and headed for a nearby phonebooth. Checking the yellow pages, I found the last thing I needed for clothing, and headed for it, glad it wasn't far away. When I got there, I parked out in front of the motorcycle apparel shop and went in, finding and buying more of the spandex shirts I liked for riding. I also bought more shades, finding several mirrored versions with wrap around sides that would completely shield my eyes from view.

I then stopped to a supermarket, picking up some miscellaneous supplies like pen, paper, and such. I had to figure out the logistics of running a convent and get some things sorted out, and though I could remember everything I thought, writing it down was still the best way of showing it to other people. While there, I picked up some other stuff just for Yukie, like socks, underwear, bras, a few pairs of sweats and T-shirts along with a nightie for her to sleep in.

Feeling I had everything, I returned to the motel. With the new car safely parked, I opened the trunk and grabbed the garment bags, and headed for my room. Along the way, I found Cherry making out with a guy beside the ice machine, her small form hidden behind his broad shoulders except for the bare leg she had wrapped around his waist. I ignored the pair, going on to my room and laying everything out on the small table. If it were later in the day, I might have went ahead and snapped back into my body, but since it was only four, decided to stay in Yukie's body a bit longer.

Going back the car for more of my purchases, I again passed Cherry and her man, though this time they had shifted around a bit so I could see Cherry and the untied top of her string bikini. I paused to look at the pair, making sure Cherry was a willing participant before again leaving her to the pre-marital bliss. When I came back through with another load of clothes, this time in store bags, I paused when I heard her moan something about hands. Noting his hands undoing her bikini bottom, I gave a strict 'ahem' to get their attention.

The pair quickly broke apart, giving me a glimpse of Cherry's pink nipples before she could fix her top. She seemed relieved after her initial shock wore off, and quickly tied her top off. "Um, excuse me," she started to say, the ginger haired guy already disappearing around the corner. "Could you not tell my sister about this?"

"Why shouldn't Diamond know her sister is making out with one of the bouncers?" I asked her.

"Because she hates him," she said pleadingly.

"So why do you keep dating him behind your sister's back?"

"Because...because I love him," she said quickly, joining me as I walked back to my room. "He wants to start his own club, but he doesn't have the money to do it. When he does, he wants me to dance there."

"And you're sister doesn't approve of you dancing?" I said, knowing full well Diamond didn't.

"She once threatened to send me to a nunnery if I tried," she said, laughing a bit. "She won't, of course, but she's always been protective of me, but it's gotten even worse since our parents died."

"Your sister cares for you," I told her, putting my bags on the dresser. "Ever think she might know something about him that you don't?" I knew what it was, but it was obvious Diamond had never told her. I didn't feel it my place to interfere with her life, but would if I had to.

"If she does, she should tell me!" Cherry said loudly, then covered her mouth when she looked to the bed. "Oh, sorry, didn't mean to disturb your friend."

"It's okay," I told her, looking back to where I slept. "She's like a rock, just don't disturb her and she's fine. But, back to Hans, you really should be careful with the men from the club. I don't trust them, and neither does your sister."

"But she's worked for them for like four years," Cherry countered. "If they were that bad, wouldn't she have left by now? They even made her the manager, and she accepted! What could be so bad?"

I hesitated, wanting to tell her the truth but not wanting to get between her and her sister. Shaking my head, I decided to give her something.

"Duke rapes the girls," I told her, and her mouth fell open in shock. "All the guys in the club were in on it."

"That can't be," she said, when she finally found her voice. "My sister wouldn't have stayed there for four years if she were being raped every day."

"Wouldn't she?" I said, thinking about the trips and life Diamond had paid for. "Your sister is a law student at UCLA, paying for your parents house, sending you on fancy trips with friends from school, and you think she wouldn't trade her happiness for your own?"

"But..." she started to say, then sit in the nearest chair as she began to understand.

"Your sister loves you that much," I told her, thinking of my own sister. I'd go through the whole process Simeon put me through all over again if it brought my sister back. "She took every depravity Duke had and protected you from it. I'm not saying Hans is a bad guy, but don't trust him until you know. Honor your sister that much."

"Alright, I will," Cherry said, giving me a smile. "So, you dance?"

"Me?" I said, blanching a bit at the thought. "I'm just the boss's assistant," I told her, remembering I was in Yukie's body. "I get her stuff and do things. So how about you? Do you dance?"

"I practice some, when my sister's not around," she said, giving a wry smile as she rolled her eyes and shook her head. "She doesn't like it when I dance, keeps saying I should go to college."

"She is right, you know," I told her.

"I want to be just like her, though," she said, getting a bit defensive. "I see her practice and I just want to try it."

"Why not come by tomorrow evening, about seven" I told her, giving her a smile. "I'm sure Vixen would love to see you dance."

She smiled at that, and it seemed to perk her spirits up. "Alright," she said, standing up. "And I'll think about what you said," she told me as she left my room.

I followed her out, going back to the car and getting the last of the day's purchases. When I had it all in hand, I locked the car up and moved everything back to my room, finding Diamond knocking on the door. She looked surprised to see Yukie, and I gave her a friendly smile.

"Here to see Vixen?" I asked her, and she nodded.

"I wanted to see...I wanted to see her," she said, catching herself.

"Come in, please," I told her, unlocking the door and showing her inside. Diamond followed me inside, her eyes on my still form under the covers.

"Is that?" she asked, moving slowly closer as if she were a moth drawn to a flame she knew could kill her.

"Me?" I said, shutting the door and locking it. That one word drew her eyes back to me, and the shock was real. "Yeah, it's me. I'm possessing my ghoul, at the moment."

"Ghoul?" Diamond said, backing away as I moved to the window. The sun was almost down, and in a few minutes, I'd transfer back to my own body and let Yukie have hers again.

"Yukie drinks my blood," I told her, when I turned back to face her. "She's stronger than a regular human, but bound to do my bidding."

"Could you do that to anyone?" she asked, backing up again as I moved to sit in a chair. She had no where to go, but I found it somewhat curious and funny.

"Drink my blood, sure," I said, crossing Yukie's legs. "But I won't make another. Yukie will be my last ghoul."

"Why?" she said, her face curious even if she were shaking from fear.

"Because, I hate ripping someone from their life," I told her, bowing my head. "I found my friends, ghouls actually. Brian and Heather had their eyes and tongue ripped out and were tortured. Brian committed suicide and Heather was afraid of her own shadow. I also found my other two ghouls, whom you know as Angel and Amber."

"So, that's why you asked about them," she said quietly.

"Because I had heard that they had been taken, but wasn't sure," I told her, feeling a surge in power. The sun must have set enough for my real body to awaken. "When I heard they had come to see me, I figured it was true."

"But I heard Angel was back," she said, and I nodded.

"Angel is now a card carrying member of the vampire club," I told her. "Not the same kind as me, but similar. Amber was buried alive with a candle to soak up the oxygen in the coffin. She didn't make it."

Diamond slid to the floor at that, her face a mask of complete shock. "She's?"

"I'm sorry," I said, hanging my head. "I've decided that I won't make another ghoul without them first knowing exactly what they're getting into, which means I never make one again. I can't see someone trading their life away and getting nothing but a long life in return. For the rest of her life, Yukie essentially becomes my dog. I can beat her, sell her body and torture her mind but she will have nothing but love for me. It's sickening, really."

"She'll never try to leave?" she said and I shook my head.

"She doesn't have the will to leave," I told her, basically summarizing the life of a ghoul and their blood addiction. "My blood is her addiction. She wants it, trading her life for it. In return, it gives her a long life, heals her wounds, and keeps her alive when someone or something nearly kills her."

"Oh," she said, looking at Yukie curiously. "What's she like?"

"Why don't you meet her," I said, willing myself out of Yukie's body. I woke up under the covers, immediately kicking my way out and putting my feet on the floor as I sat up, somewhat scaring Diamond as Yukie took in her new fancy clothes and manicure.

I was still in my bikini, but was now caked with orange paste. It took a moment to recognize it as the rub in tan that had been applied to me last night, and I give it a wan smile. Looking at Yukie, the woman was still looking at her new clothes, then gave me a smile when she caught my eye.

"I thought you might get me sweats, yes?" she said as she stood and took in the three piece suit in the mirror. "This is, fancy."

"Benefits of being my ghoul," I told her. Going to her wallet and pulling out the remaining stack of hundred dollars bills. I still had most of it, leaving Yukie a couple of thousand dollars. "Tomorrow, while I sleep, I want you to take the money I left you and go get some clothes for yourself."

"Hai," she said, looking at her clothes. I didn't think she liked being in what I had picked out, but she did look good in it, now that I could see it all. "Who is this?"

"Yukie, meet Diamond," I said, introducing my club's new manager. "Diamond, my ghoul Yukie."

"She is not like me?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"She's still human and doesn't drink my blood," I told her.

"Okay," she said, then yawned.

"If you want, you can dress in the nightie I got for you and go to bed," I told her. She nodded, and I showed her the nightie I had picked out for her. She then went into the bathroom and changed, leaving me alone with a somewhat calm Diamond.

"You care for her," she said, and I shrugged.

"As I said, she's almost literally like a dog now," I told her, looking at the bathroom door. "Or maybe a baby. She's tired and now I'm going to tuck her into bed so she can rest."

"I just wanted to see if you were alive or not," she said, pulling the three hundred million dollar check from her cleavage and handing it to me. "I'm glad you're alive though."

"Thanks," I told her, taking the check and ripping it into shreds. I guess I needed to see Venus and let her know I was alive, too.

"Any luck on a building yet, or is it too soon?" she asked me.

"I need to see a woman about signing a lease," I told her, and she broke out in a huge grin just as Yukie let out a shriek of Japanese that made us both look questioningly at the door. It didn't sound good. "I'm hoping that what he has doesn't need a lot of conversion, so Saturday I might gather the guys to go over what needs to be done."

"I'll let them know not to make plans," she said as she drifted for the door. She looked back to me, giving me a look. "I'll see you later," she said, leaving through the door. It seemed as if she wanted to say more or something else, but she just left.

The door had no more closed than Yukie came back out of the bathroom, a little irate. She marched right up to me and let loose a string of Japanese that sounded more like a threat than anything else. I held up my hands, and she stopped, but her arms were crossed.

"I take it you have issues with being waxed?" I asked and she nodded.

"My apologies," I said, and she seemed to calm down. "I'm just not used to having hair there."

She seemed to want to say more, and I nodded my head for her to speak. "Ask next time, Akuma no shōfu," she spat before turning away. She went over to the other side of the bed, and slid under the cover, settling herself in.

I looked at the paste covering my skin, and started to gather some clothes before my shower. It was going to be a long night, not that I had that much to do, but getting the ducks in a row was another matter.

First things first, I needed a shower to get this fake tan off. Then I could start on my night.

 _ **(End Chapter)**_

* * *

 **Author's Note: There comes a time as a writer when you have to admit you have a dirty mind. I admit it, freely, and had several other ideas that I had to go back and rework or remove entirely because they don't fit the narrative I'm trying to build.**

 **How bad could it be, you ask? Well, keep reading.**

* * *

This omake begins during the conversation Eliza was having with Cherry, Diamond's younger sister. It's how things were originally meant to go before I decided to go a different direction.

 _ **(Begin omake)**_

"Have you ever danced for someone?" I asked her and Cherry shook her head. "When I get done, you can give me a dance. You'll be safe with me."

"Okay!" she said excitedly. "Let me get my stuff from the car. I'll be back in in a minute."

"I'll be waiting," I called as she quickly left the room.

I went back to the car, getting the last of the bags and locking the car up for safety. In my room, after Cherry had locked herself in the bathroom with her gym bag, I began to put stuff away, hanging everything I could and putting the other clothes in the dresser. I could get my rifle and bag after the sun set, but looking around the room, I didn't know where I could hide it. Thinking it over, I decided the best place would be the only place no one would look, and that was under the bed.

Nodding to myself, I settled myself into the room, taking off the coat. Cherry would out in a a bit, so I sat in the provided chair and waited. She was only a few more minutes, coming out in a red and black lace corset hooked by garter straps to stockings. She turned to the mirror, allowing me the chance to look over her clothing and the ostensibly high heels she wore, about twelve inches of them, and the ease she walked in them.

When she ducked back into the bathroom, she came out with a small stereo that had a tape player on it, and set it on top of the dresser. She hit play, then moved closer. Warrant's 'Cherry Pie' began blasting from the stereo, and she quickly began rocking her hips to the beat.

I had to admit, she had an allure, moving her body with grace. I hadn't seen her sister dance yet, but Diamond couldn't be any better than her sister. Cherry moved closer, finally standing over me as she danced. When the song hit the chorus, she ran her hands up and pulled off the cups covering her breasts, letting me again see her pink nipples unspoiled by pasties.

She moved closer, pressing her now bare chest into my face. As with Meredith when she danced for me in the upstairs VIP room, Cherry moved her body slightly and slid her nipple into my lips. I opened my lips and began sucking on it, the small fleshy bit hardening under my lips.

Cherry gasped at my sucking, but didn't pull away immediately. When she finally turned away, it was to turn her backside to me and sit in my lap. She leaned over my shoulder, showing off her boobs to me and the way her nipples now stuck out hard as diamonds. I raised my hands, fondling her breasts as she undulated against me, gasping as I did so.

"Um," she began to say, but I shushed her, making her fall silent even as I felt her up.

She leaned forward, straddling my leg right leg and stretching the fabric of her ample backside. I let my hands drop, as she undulated on my leg a bit before standing up again, just as the song finished. Cherry hit the stop button on the tape deck, and then beamed.

"How was that?"

"Not bad," I told her. "But, um, you're still a bit overdressed."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking down at her bare breasts.

"You're supposed to strip," I told her, giving her a smile. "Do I need to show you how it's done?"

"Sure," she said, as I stood up. I give her a smile, even though I had to admit I'd never done this myself either. Cherry took my spot on the chair, her breasts still bare. I hit the play button, the next song spinning up. The heavy beat and guitar riffs telling me the tune was 'Born To Be Wild.' I smiled, then began rocking my hips before turning back to Cherry. She had no idea what she was in for.

Before the first words had even started, I had unbuttoned my vest and tossed it on the bed. With each beat of the song, I was undoing the buttons on my shirt, showing off Yukie's bra when I pulled the shirt fully open. Cherry watched with her mouth open as I straddled her lap, and only then did I pull off my shirt, tossing that the way of the vest.

Cherry's eyes seemed glued to my chest as I rose up, rubbing my cleavage into her face as I did so. As the group started the chorus, I undid the bra's snaps, letting the bra fall slowly off on the chorus's slow pace, slowly revealing Yukie's bare boobs to Cherry. One look told me her eyes were glued to my chest, and on the next drum threw the bra aside and shoved a nipple in her mouth. Cherry sucked on it, her eyes looking up to me as she did so. I gave her a smile, cradling her head in close to my chest as I rocked my hips against her ample and bare breasts at the pleasure I felt.

As the rock song started to blare again, I dropped down into her lap, and began rocking my hips over hers, grinding our private parts together briefly before raising my hips to rub at her belly button. I wriggled my hips to drop her attention down, then unbuttoned my pants, showing her my white lacy panties.

She looked up at me, as I stepped back, kicking my Chelsea's off by the dresser, then lost track of her eyes as I turned around and bent down, Yukie's long hair pooling at my feet as I stretched myself for her to see, then slid my pants off my hips to fall down my Yukie's toned legs. I caught Cherry's eyeing my butt from my bent over position, her eyes following my hands after I ran them up and down my bare legs a few times. I knew the song as almost over, so I pulled Yukie's panties down, exposing her labia to Cherry's eyes just as the song ended.

Instead of hitting the stop button, I let the tape continue as it began to play 'Sweet Dreams,' the guitar riff of Marilyn Manson bringing a big smile to my face as I rose up. Cherry swallowed, as I stepped out of my pants and panties and walked nude back to her. I sat on her lap, pressing our bare breasts together, our nipples briefly touching as I rose to bury her face in my cleavage. Her eyes looked to mine, and I smiled at her slack jawed look. I slipped twisted my body a bit, pressing a nipple into her mouth, her mouth closing as she began to suckle like a baby.

I moaned at the pleasure, then turned my chest to the other side so she could suckle on the other one, her eyes never leaving mine. After letting her suckle a bit, I let myself fall, rubbing our bodies together until I was sitting on her lap. Letting my hands roam over her corset, I then decided to go further.

Sliding off her lap, I knelt in front of her and pulled on her knees a bit, sliding her to the edge of the chair. Moving my head down by her knees, I breathed on her inner thighs. Looking up at her, I could see the flush in her cheeks caused by her excitement. Moving closer to her panties, I could see her start to pant a little. When my lips brushed her panties, she closed her eyes, trying to shut out the excitement she was feeling. I could hear her light moans as she panted, feel her thighs quake from the lust she was feeling, then with a single lick, pushed her over the edge.

In a moment, her thighs closed around my head as she climaxed, giving a brief shriek of alarm before falling silent again. When she finally opened her eyes, I gave her a grin.

"That's what it means to give a good lap dance," I told her, reaching over and stopping the tape.

"That was awesome," Cherry said, still panting as I stood in front of her. I wanted to cross my arms to cover my chest, but put my hands on my hips instead. I wanted to portray that I knew what I was doing, not ashamed of myself.

"So, are you ashamed of your body?" I asked her, cocking a hip.

"No," she said quickly, then looked down at her corset. With a sigh, she undid the corset, then unsnapped the garters before standing and slipping it over her hips. I give a look to her panties, and she wriggled them off too, standing there in only her stockings and heels, before she blushed and covered her breasts with her arms.

"Okay, so I am slightly embarrassed," she admitted. "But, you've danced before!"

"Actually, that was my first time," I told her. "But there are truths about what the girls go through that you haven't heard of."

"Then I should know," she said. "So show me if you can't tell me."

I smiled, my eyes going to the dresser drawer that held my toy from the Goth store. "Are you sure you want to know?" I asked her.

"Sure," she said, but I had a feeling it was false bravado.

"Then come on," I said, motioning towards the sink. "I need to show you in here."

Cherry moved to the sink, slowly stepping around me. I bent over after she walked past, pulling the toy out of the dresser before falling in step behind her and undoing the packaging. Cherry had no idea what to expect, so I flicked on the light over the sink, keeping the toy hidden behind her back.

"Now, wash your hands thoroughly," I told her, knowing she'd be distracted for a minute while she tried to figure out the significance of washing her hands.

As the water ran, and she began to scrub on her hands, I pulled my toy out and tossed the packaging back to the carpet where it landed without a sound. The toy unrolled soundlessly, showing me it's thong like construction, and I slipped my feet into it while keeping it raised and hidden from her sight.

"Keep washing," I said, when the water cut off. Cherry gave a huff, but turned the water back on, and I adjusted the belts to be tighter. With the strap-on positioned and tight around my hips, I grabbed Cherry by the hips.

"What?" she said, looking at me in the mirror.

"Are you ready to experience what every girl at Four-Play has?" I said, pushing down on Cherry's hips until she was leaning on the counter.

"What is it?" she said, then I pressed the strap-on against her pussy.

She looked back to me, fear in her eyes. "Do you want it?" I asked her, voice growling a bit. "Duke fucked every girl at Four-Play, including your sister, breaking them on his black leather couch. Ready to get broke in like your sister?"

"No, she would have said something!" Cherry said, frantic.

"Why?" I asked her, bending over to growl in her ear. "The mortgage was due, there was no money, all she had was a fake ID that was easy to spot and a body to sell. She went to Duke's to make money and Duke took every advantage."

"I don't believe you!" she said, tears in her eyes. "She would have said something!"

I kept rubbing the strap-on against her, but didn't press it in. I wouldn't go that far, but I wanted to get my point across. She was safe with me, as I promised, but I'd do Diamond a favor and teach her about the sordid world of dancing as I knew it under Duke.

"Did she ever come home crying?" I asked, holding Cherry down by the shoulders now. It would make violating so easy right now that she was sobbing as she awaited what was to come. She couldn't get herself free. "She ever recoil when you surprise her? Have strange bruises on her arms or get angry for no reason?"

"It's rough!" she said, crying. "She even has a special powder to help her handle it!"

"Coke," I said, naming it. "Takes the edge off, right? Helps her forget what that bastard did to her."

"What are you going to do to me?!" she sobbed as I held her down.

"You wanted to know," I told her. "Want me to show you now?"

 _ **(End Omake)**_

* * *

 **And that's as far as I got before I realized I was about to start writing a porno. Not my best work, but not my worst either.**

 **Like it, hate it, won't know if you don't review!**


	49. Chapter 49 - A Slow Night

**Author's Note: Per Doctor Winter's review and his confusion over the last chapter's ending, I've went back and made the last section known it was an omake, an extra, and not part of the story's canon. Hope this helps alleviate any confusion about the last chapter, because it was sorely lacking in reviews.**

* * *

Chapter 49 – A Slow Night

October 7, 2004 = Thursday

~Eliza Flores~

The shower stall was somewhat clean, and it felt great to wash the tanning cream off my skin as it now felt grimy. With the water as hot as it could get, I cleaned every inch of my body, only stepping out when I felt I had everything. Thoughts of my body rejecting the tanning cream had me wondering about tattoos, but I had to imagine that my body would force the ink out as well as it healed the wounds.

Wrapping a towel under my armpits, I stepped out to the sink to brush my teeth. It was disappointing to see nothing in the mirror, so I concentrated on brushing, making sure to go the extra mile and extend the fangs and clean them too. Once I had the toothpaste out of my mouth, I started to get dressed, putting on a red lace bra and panty set.

I then began rummaging through my recently bought clothes, coming out with a green pair of slacks, a black button up blouse with long sleeves and my lowest heels at two inches. I brushed out my hair, helping to dry it after my extensive scrubbing and pondered the night's list of things to do. I needed to see Michele about that lease, and also had to see Walsh to sign off on buying the golf course. I also needed to see Venus tonight, maybe round up Diamond and show her the building so she could get things started on a remodel.

Once I had my hair somewhat dry and a pair of round blue tinted shades covering my eyes, I stepped out to see that only a few people were out and about, among them Meredith. I eyed the new kindred as she walked up to one of the club's bouncers, a wiry older man named George, and started a conversation with him. She was dressed in a frilly dress that seemed to tease her nudity, but one good look should have told any guys that the bottom most layer was thick enough to hide her figure on its own.

Seeing the new kindred out and about had me looking for Eloise. I found her a moment later, hiding in the hallway. I smiled at seeing her fuss over what had to be borrowed clothes; a short leather mini and tube top, constantly pulling the tube top up as if she were afraid it would slide so low her nipples would show.

I walked over to her, not being noticed as she kept her eyes trained hard on her new charge as if she were watching for the slightest mistake. I figured it was likely she was watching for masquerade breaches, so I turned and faced her myself. It seemed as if Meredith was trying to seduce the guy by getting intimately close and pressing herself against him.

"How is she not able to seal the deal, already?" I voiced, watching the former stripper slip a hand between George and herself in what had to be a play for his manhood.

"He's gay," Eloise said simply, her eyes unwavering from the pair.

"Reading his thoughts?" I asked her, and she smiled.

"Yes," she said, and I gave her a curious look.

"How does that work?" I asked her, wondering if auspex was another power Lucian left me. I thought Dracula was a myth, but the more I learned of kindred, it was entirely possible for a kindred to possess all the powers of a mythical vampire.

"Look at George," she said, finally breaking eye contact. "Like with domination, but look into him, not just his eyes." I followed her words, seeing a silver cloud form over George. "Can you see the silver cloud?"

"Yes," I said, seeing a purple one form around Meredith.

"Good," she said, her words seemed to be contained a din. "Now, push a bit past the cloud, and listen."

I did, and then I heard George talking. "Hands off already!"

"Huh," I said, realizing it was his thoughts I was listening in on. "That's a new one on me."

"You can hear his thoughts?" she asked, giving me a sideways glance.

"I don't even know what all I can do, anymore," I told her, looking around the few others around me. I saw Sugar laying out catching a tan, but her aura was the same as George's. "Do ghouls have a different aura than kine?"

"Half and half," she told me. "Blue base with waves of purple through it."

I looked closer at Sugar's aura, seeing no purple at all in it. "You sure?" I asked, staring hard at Sugar.

"Positive," she said. "The purple only fades with the blood, so either they returned to being normal, or they are about to go into withdrawal. It's how Toreador know when to feed their ghouls."

"Huh," I said, deciding to ask Sugar about it later. It'd be easier if she were already through her withdrawal. Maybe she slept through it.

Turning back to Meredith, I saw her leading George towards us, but there was a purple wave ring in his aura now. They passed between me and Eloise without a word, going around the corner, though I could still see their auras they walked a little way before stopping, though their aura's did sharpen drastically around their bodies giving me the somewhat ability to see them through the walls.

"The red ring that was in his aura?" I asked her, watching as Meredith began feeding from her victim.

"A sign of dominate forcing him to act against his will," she said, seemingly watching as well. "Black streaks like that are a sign the kindred has committed diablerie."

"So if someone did do the deed..." I asked, somewhat glad I had a way of proving my innocence at my wealth of kindred powers.

"It would leave a mark that won't wash off for years," she confirmed, moving forward as Meredith broke apart from George and dropped him to the ground. His aura had dimmed, but remained steady. I followed her around the corner, letting my auspex fade as Meredith and George came in sight.

"Oh, hey," she said, easing the man to the ground. "Come to sit in on the lessons?"

"Well, I can give you pointers on what I've learned living on the streets," I told her, as we all began walking towards the stairs.

"Actually, now that I'm fed, Eloise is going to start teaching me how to use my powers," Meredith told me as we walked up. "First up, familiars."

"Well, at least Keenan won't be lonely," I joked with them, climbing with them as Meredith led the way, with Eloise right behind her. Though I wasn't paying much attention, I had the idea that she wasn't wearing anything under her mini as every time she stretched the material it didn't have any pantie lines showcasing where her underwear lie.

"Surprisingly, there's a lot of truth in that," she told me as she climbed. "Familiars can talk to each other, even if they are cats, and since we can hear our own, they can form a bridge of sorts to other familiars. It allows them to act as messengers."

"Can the gargoyle familiars understand cats as well?" I asked and Eloise nodded as we climbed the next set.

"Yes, and since everyone can understand them, they are the first type most students want to make," she told us.

"Doesn't hurt that you can remake them to look like living Barbie dolls," I said, remembering the fairy-like creatures from the chantry.

"Really?" Meredith said, and Eloise gave a nod as we reached the top of the stairs.

"Just a bit of alteration," she informed us as we continued into Meredith's room, which as I stepped into, was more like a suite of two motel rooms joined together. She had a kitchenette in this rooms bathroom area, and a couch where the bed went. Plus, in the kitchenette was the door that led to the other room and supposedly the bathroom.

What struck me after taking it all in was blond haired Dominique sitting on the couch, watching TV. She didn't take her eyes off the TV, seeming to find the newscaster very interesting. A quick check of her aura with my newly discovered auspex powers told me she was under dominate.

"Your meal?" I asked Eloise, who nodded as she turned to face me.

"And I'm yours," she said, standing in the middle of the room. "How do you want me?"

I walked up in front of her, taking in her in my arms. I give her a smile, even as she shivered. "You want it quick or slow?" I asked her, and she looked away.

"Quick," she said without missing a beat. I nodded, sliding my fangs out as I nuzzled under her ear. I bit deep, her blood flowing free across my tongue. It seemed to sizzle on my tongue, and Eloise moaned as I fed.

When I pulled my fangs out and stepped back, Eloise shook her head slowly. She seemed to zero in on Dominique, quickly pouncing the blond and pinning her down on the couch while she straddled her stomach, Dominique's arms held above her head by Eloise. Dominique didn't even have time to scream before Eloise leaned forward and sank her teeth in, the fabric of her mini stretched tight for me and Meredith to see.

I was afraid I was going to have to peel Eloise off her victim, when she finally pulled her fangs out and began to sit up, her movements slow as she ran pale hands over Dominique's limp form until they rested on her breasts. She held that pose for several long moments, savoring the fresh blood before she realized where her hands were kneading Dominique's lady lumps and quickly dismounted.

If I didn't know better, I'd say Eloise batted for the other team by her actions, and she seemed horrified at being caught with her hands on the proverbial cookies. "I'm not gay," she said quickly hiding her hands behind her as if she were afraid they'd show something.

"It's the twenty-first century," Meredith said, sniggering a bit herself. "We call it being a lesbian now."

"I don't have a social disease!" she insisted, and I couldn't help a full laugh.

"It's not a disease, sweety," Meredith said, smiling as she continued to snigger. "Medical science has long since ruled that lesbians and gays are just part of the natural order of things."

"So, this is nothing?" she said, and I nodded.

"I'm hoping when I get Sammie home I can start a relationship with her, myself," I told her, helping to ease the elder kindred's fear. "I even bought a toy to share with her."

"Hope she likes it," Meredith said, and we turned to see Eloise calming down finally.

"It really is nothing, now?" she asked, her tone serious. I nodded, and she very visibly relaxed. "When I was alive, you didn't dare act gay in any way. At best, society would kick you out."

"And worst," Meredith asked, and I shook my head.

"They might try to cure you," she said, hanging her head. "Barbaric practices even at the best of times."

"Barbaric?" Meredith breathed, looking to me for an answer.

"Ever seen 'But I'm a Cheerleader?'" I asked her, and she shook her head no. "Little movie where a high school cheerleader is sent to a rehabilitation camp for gays and lesbians. Back in the eighteen hundreds, those camps were probably run by state ran psychiatric institutions, who probably raped the women until they decided to conform to society to escape or died of their abuse."

"That's horrific," she said, disgusted.

"It's history," she said, wrapping an arm around herself. "So what's life like for us now?"

"Accepted, but still working on marriage equality," Meredith said, glad for the change of subject. "Also, somewhat protected, but that just means they'll find other excuses to get rid of you."

"But that's in life," I said, seeing her panic. "Remember, our sexual preferences don't even matter except for intimate moments. It's not like we're getting married for eternity."

"True," Eloise said, panic fading from her face. "So, let me get rid of the snack," she said, then used dominate to rewrite Dominique's memories to hide our activities, making Dominique think she had fallen and laid out on Meredith's couch to make the world quit spinning, but that she was alright now and could go about her day.

After she left, I had to raise an eyebrow at how easy that seemed to do given Eloise wasn't as powerful as me at dominate. Eloise just smiled, then motioned for me to sit next to Meredith on the couch while she sat in a chair on the other side of the coffee table.

"Now, Eliza, I know you've learned a few things, but I doubt you have the big picture on everything," she began, making me feel like I was in a lecture hall. "So, I'm going to start this off by asking, have you ever heard of Cain?"

"Biblical Cain?" I asked her and she nodded.

"He's presumed by kindred legend to be the first," she said, continuing on. "Whether this is true or not is unclear, but we have historical evidence of thirteen different kindred existing just after the deluge."

"The deluge?" Meredith asked, and I shrugged.

"Another name for the flood that Noah survived," I told her.

"Correct," Eloise said, pulling up a chair and sitting in it. "We know that when they started what's referred to as the Second City, presumably built after Cain's Enoch, there were thirteen. Each member spawned their own clan; Assamite, Brujah, Set, Gangrel, Lasombra, Malkavian, Nosferatu, Ravnos, Toreador, Tzimisce and the Ventrue surviving, and thriving up till recently. Clans Cappadocian and Salubri were supplanted by the Giovanni and Tremere, respectively, by diablerizing their third generation founder."

"So, what happened to the others?" Meredith asked.

"The Giovanni wiped out the Cappadocians while we Tremere wiped out the Salubri," she answered. "From our founders act of diablerization, we founded our clans, even if the early Tremere mucked it all up."

"What did they do?" I asked, and she grimaced.

"When Tremere, the man, was still alive, he led an order of mages," she explained. "He had access to a hermetic form of magic, but wanted immortality, which is something his magic couldn't provide without fatal flaws. When he learned of vampires, he used his magic to turn himself into vampire, starting our clan with stolen blood."

"I bet the other kindred liked that," I said sarcastically, making Eloise shrug.

"We were stupid like that," she said, shaking her head. "The early clan gained their immortality, but found that their avatars were shattered breaking their link to human magic. Our attempt to get it back with the help of the still human mages friendly to the clan led to our memory problem, which is why we have the same memory capabilities we had in life while you, Eliza, have near perfect memory. The clan then launched an extensive research program that led to thaumaturgy, something we guard both zealously and jealously."

"I figured that when you asked me about Strauss training me in it," I told her.

"Something I can't do either, I'm afraid," she said sadly. "I might have walked out, but I could always join another chantry somewhere else. I can't do that if the first question they ask me is if I taught clan secrets to an outsider. Not only is it forbidden, it's a death sentence."

"I have my own books to learn from," I said, thinking of the small library Celeste had stolen and I now claimed.

"We have them here," Meredith told me. "Jean gave us everything that you left with her."

"I can let you have them without any problem," Eloise said, preventing an argument. "All I have to say is I didn't teach you any secrets. Which I won't if you learn them yourself. I'm just the librarian, you do your own research. What you find is your own damn problem."

"Fair enough," I said.

"As I said," she continued. "Tremere found legitimacy by diablerizing Saulot, head of the Salubri clan and we subsequently wiped them out. That one act also neutralized our clan head, leading to the clan being ran by the council, to which all Tremere are bound to, even me."

"So what about the other clan heads?" I asked her.

"Each one is either dead or has disappeared," she told me. "None of them gave any clues to what came before, so we don't know how accurate it is to say that they are third generation, if there were once more that died off or who spawned them."

"What about fourth generations?" I asked her.

"Not many of them left, either," she told me. "The most prominent in my lifetime was Mithras, who was the Prince of London since the death of Christ. Roughly."

"What happened to him?" I asked, curious as to what killed him.

"He went into torpor at the beginning of World War Two," she said with a shrug. "When he awoke, he was weak from his exhaustive sleep and subsequently diablerized by a young Assamite."

"Hmm," I said, thoughtful. "So, how long until I enter torpor?" I asked, but Eloise shook her head.

"Maybe not for a couple of millennia, maybe next year, maybe never," she said. "It seems to happen when kindred become lethargic to living, meaning you could forestall it if you reground yourself to the world around you. My advice would be to sleep, because while in torpor you lower your blood potency, meaning you could go back to drinking from humans after sleeping a century away."

"That's nice to know," I said bitterly. "In the meantime, no telling what improvements I'd miss out on."

"Like wearing computers instead of keeping them at home?" Meredith joked and I shook my head while she sniggered.

I shook my head, deciding to change the course of the conversation. "Just try not to bite the wrong neck."

"Why, what could happen?" Meredith asked, her voice rising in concern.

"Nothing," Eloise said, giving me a curious eye. "Whomever told you that was obviously young and inexperienced themselves. There's no blood disease you can drink that won't either die in our bodies or be cured by vampirism."

"Really?" I asked, leaning back into the couch. "What about that plague I wiped out in downtown?"

Eloise got up at that, then went into the bedroom. I thought I'd made her mad but she came back with a red binder and flipped it open, then handed it to me. The page she was showing me was filled with hand written notes and diagrams, but the writing dictated how to create the plague in all its stages and how effective it was at spreading.

"Celeste Evans engineered that plague to bring down humans and ghouls," she told me as I read some of the page. "Without its thaumaturgical components, it was useless against even ghouls."

"Talk about being wrong," I thought.

"Most kindred refuse to listen to the scholar clan," she grumbled, sitting back down in her chair while hitching her tube top higher again. "A few brave souls risked their unlives to put it to the test, and not even a patient's blood in the end stages of AIDS survived in their system. We've since worked with doctors to discover that AIDS and HIV, like rabies, dies with the body. It might take longer to die than rabies, but it does die. Since we're walking corpses..."

"It can't live within us," I said, nodding in acceptance. "Guess that makes feeding easier."

"For us, anyway," Eloise conceded. "Also, since you don't transfuse any blood back into your blood doll, or feeding victim, it's not like you're transferring anything to them."

"So, what else can you teach me?" I asked her.

"Um, well, you have good control of your presence, right?" she asked me. "That display at the trial wasn't Lasombra?"

"All me," I told her, and got a questioning look from Meredith. "A Brujah inadvertently broke the masquerade when he got caught feeding during frenzy. When they held his Trial, the prince tried to use his presence to cow me, but I forced it back at him and made him yield the issue."

"What are you?" she asked, shaking her head without taking her eyes from me. "The most powerful kindred in the city?"

"I'm beginning to wonder," I told her, getting a shrug of 'who knows' from Eloise.

"You pretty much know everything I do, except thaumaturgy," she said, sighing. "For that, hit the stacks, but I'd recommend starting with Celeste's Grimoire, that binder you're holding. I'd also recommend starting your own, if for no other reason than to keep track of what you can handle. You'll find thaumaturgy a strange discipline, requiring a strength of will along with blood. Spells often require a certain potency to fully function, so cataloging a spells results can make it easier to chart your successes to a teacher."

"And I thought you weren't going to teach me thaumaturgy," I prodded, but Eloise smiled.

"Who said I'm teaching you anything?" she said cattily. "I'm just charting your success. Think of it as a class where I'm not so much your teacher, but a guide as you search for your own answers. You need to learn to lie to someone who auspex."

"As Samantha would say, 'It's all in how you phrase the truth,'" I told her and she nodded.

"Say it right, and people assume the wrong thing," she agreed. "It's why older speech such as Romeo and Juliet sounds like talking in circles," she told me. "Getting to the heart of a matter so both understand the subject."

"Well, that works," I said, leaning back in the couch. "So, how do you stay up during the day?"

"You have to fight it," she told me, leaning in close. "Think of it as staying up late. You have to keep yourself going, moving. Letting yourself stop makes you just as tired. Also, remember you're going to weaken during the day, so try not to get into any fights."

"So, if a kindred wanted to attack me, during the day I'd be vulnerable?"

"To any and everything," she agreed. "It's one of the reasons we keep familiars to watch over us. Protecting us until we can rise on our own. Also, you can train yourself to rise earlier than the sun, but you won't be at full power until the sun sets. It can be useful if you want to meet someone during the day. Just stay out of the sun."

"Like being hit with a flamethrower," I grumbled, absently rubbing where I'd been burned trying to get home once.

"Flamethrower?" she said, face contorted in confusion. "Last time I was burned by the sun it was more like touching a hot skillet. How bad was it?"

"Second and third degree burns wherever the light touched me," I told her.

"Must be the a clan thing," she said, looking down. "Is that why you where shades all the time?"

I chuckled, removing my shades to let her see my missing irises. "Been that way ever since I got burned. That and the light's are like spotlights, everything is so bright."

"It has to be connected to your clan," she said, thinking it over. "I've never heard of it before."

"Well, anyway, I got to get things going for tonight," I said, putting my shades back on and standing up. "My bag and rifle?"

"Be right back," Meredith said, going into her room for a moment before coming out with the items I asked for. I slung my bag over my neck, stashing Celeste's Grimoire inside, then took the rifle, holding it as if I were getting ready to use it even though it was out of ammo.

"If you two need me, here's my cell number," I said, giving them my cell's number. "I can get back here in the blink of an eye if it's an emergency."

"You have celerity too?" Eloise asked, astonished.

"Yes, but I can step from shadow to shadow," I told her. "Apparently housing Lasombra has amazing perks."

"I doubt there's much that can happen if we stay inside," Eloise said, my number now written in a leather bound book that bore her name in faded gold print. "I have a lot to teach my student."

"Best of luck," I said, ghosting out the door to allow the pair the chance to learn.

I was glad there weren't anyone standing around outside, going straight to the car to stash the bag and gun in the trunk. I made my mind up about seeing Fat Larry for ammo for the big gun, maybe ammo for my other guns too.

Getting in the car, I decided to head for Confessions first, see how things were going there. The number of cars had doubled since the last time I had been here, and things were more lively inside with a number of girls partying their hearts out. The music was definitely better, with a fast beat electronica mix playing while everyone danced.

Venus looked much happier, doling drinks out at the bar with Four-Play's bartenders while a bouncer carded me with an exasperated look in his eye. He was about to ask for a cover when he seemed to recognize me, then sheepishly motioned me on through. I gave him a playful smile, knowing the guy was likely bored and my face was lost in the blur of people coming and going.

Still, Venus didn't even notice me in the livelier club until she went to serve me as I sat to the bar. She smiled at seeing me, and I took in her attire for the night. Venus was dressed in a netted top revealing the black leather bra underneath it that matched her mini, or what I could see of it.

"So, still alive," she said with a smile. "How'd it turn out?"

"Me one, Sabbat none," I told her. "I find the rest, I'll keep adding tally marks in the win column."

"Good," she said, then looked around us. "Step this way, please?" she said, leading me towards the room that held the staircase. Once we were inside, and away from prying eyes, she raised her netted top and fished my check out of her bra.

"I found a lawyer, he has the unsigned one," she told me as she handed me the check for two hundred million dollars. "He said we might 'plead it out,' since it's my first offense, but I might have to go through some drug rehab."

"That sounds best case," I said, shredding the check into tiny pieces. "What's the worst case?"

"Several years in prison," she grumbled. "I'm hoping it doesn't come to that."

"I think I can help, just keep me in the loop," I told her, putting a calming hand on her shoulder. "If nothing else, I'll fix the judge so that you get the bare minimum."

"I appreciate it," she said, giving me a wan smile. "Other than that, your party pack has things jumping around here. I've got guys coming in to dance with the girls, so I put the cover back on this evening. It's starting to look like I might turn a profit as long as you subsidize their end."

"Which I will," I said, smiling back. "I'll check back in tomorrow briefly to make sure it keeps getting better."

"Good," she said, as I turned for the door. "Oh, one last thing. There's a woman here, name of Patty. She's looking for a kindred name of Kent. Seems adamant to find him."

"She called him a kindred?" I asked her.

"Yes, she did," Venus said, cracking the door a bit to point her out to me. I used my newfound auspex abilities to see her aura, finding a faint wave of purple running through it. "What are you going to do?"

"Report her," I said simply. "Not my problem yet."

"Then I'll leave you to it," she said, slipping out the door.

I pulled my phone out, calling Walsh. He answered almost immediately. "Walsh, it's Eliza."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he said.

"I got a ghoul who's looking for their master, someone named Kent," I told him. "She's getting pretty lippy about it."

"Kent Alan Ryan," he said, sighing. I could almost picture him relaxing into his chair. "He is, up until two weeks ago at least, a Toreador kindred who was heavy into clubs. I haven't seen anything of him in some time. He was known to be an Anarch, so you might try with them and where he might have gone."

"Thanks, Walsh," I said, and he disconnected the line. I couldn't help think that Damsel would know what had happened to him. Sighing, I shadow-stepped to the upstairs area where only kindred were allowed, and looked around. I needed to get close, so I reached out with my shadow abilities, finding the redhead in her usual spot by the stairs. A quick look around told me the area was empty, so I stepped in on the other side of the stairs.

"Whoa!" she said, seeing me come out of the shadows. "Hell of a trick."

"Hey Damsel," I said, giving her a smile. "I'm looking for a Kent Ryan, of clan Toreador."

She shook her head, leaning back against the stairs. "You're a few weeks too late. He bought it in a Sabbat raid."

"Damn," I said, leaning up on the other side. "What am I supposed to do with his ghoul?"

"Patty?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "I knew she'd be trouble in the end. Is she looking for her fix?"

"Yea," I told her. "She's getting pretty blabby about kindred, too."

"Damn," she said, echoing me. "Care to do me a favor?"

"Besides the one I'm calling off, already?" I said, and she smiled.

"Yeah, Michele told me you won that silly bet. I'm also glad you're calling off that boon, but this is more of a personal favor. Patty, I don't much like her but what those damn Cammies will do will be horriffic."

"Public beheading?" I said, making Damsel nod as she moved closer.

"If she has to die, make it peaceful, okay?" she asked, giving me a hug and putting her head on my shoulder. "They don't ask to be ripped away from their lives."

"I'll make it as peaceful as I can," I promised her, hugging her back. "Now, so people don't see me leave," I said, then stepped back to the stairwell in confessions.

Stepping out of the stairwell, I locked my eyes on Patty. The ghoul seemed to sense me coming, turning to face me before I had taken more than three steps. She was dressed in a

"I knew you'd talk to me," she said, her voice high and nasally. "I swear you are all like, totally drawn to me. I'm surprised I don't know you. I usually meet all the LA vampires out on the scene."

"So you're Patty?" I asked and she smiled. "Kent said I might find you here."

"I really need to find him," she said, and I could almost hear the plea in her voice. "I can usually just go straight to him, but it's not working anymore."

I nodded my head, but wanted to get her outside so I could handle her better. Catching her eyes, I pulled my shades down and hit her with dominate. "Go outside and wait for me in the alleyway down the street."

Patty just nodded, then walked towards the door. I followed her, stopping by my car to get my bag and the pistol it carried. I kept following her until we were in the alley. She walked pretty far in, then turned to wait under a light. When she caught sight of me, she jumped as if realizing we were no longer in the club.

"What are we doing out here?" she asked, raising her hands as I reached into my bag and put my hand on my Glock.

"You're going to make a choice," I told her. "Kent is dead. It's why you can't find him. Now, you can either accept that, and me as your new kindred domitor, or I'll end you, here and now and spare you the Trial and a public beheading."

"Bitch!" she screamed, swinging a right on me. She was fast, but I raised a hand and blocked it, then pulled my Glock and shoved it under her ribcage and pulled the trigger. The resulting crack of the pistol was loud in the alley, the heavy punch of the bullet ripping through her and stopping any future attacks.

She fell back against the wall, looking at me with shock across her face. I raised the gun, stepping back a bit, then shot her several more times in the chest. After she slumped to the ground, I checked her pulse, finding it gone.

Putting the Glock back in my bag, I shifted into a shadow just as a couple of kids rushed into the alley. Hiding in a shadow, I drifted along a drain pipe until I was on the roof, then allowed myself to reform my body and look down. They seemed to be calling the cops, so I decided not to hang around to be found.

I turned back into a mist, floating through the empty air and across to the other rooftop. I didn't want to shadow step back to Confessions, it was hard enough to get blood as it was, so when I got to the other side I returned to my body and kept walking away from Patty's death scene. When I hit the next alley, I hopped over the side and landed on my toes, walking the rest of the way back to my car before driving away.

Since it was on the way, I decided to stop by Fat Larry's van, but the van was missing when I arrived. I kept on driving, as I had the feeling of being watched, then turned down an alley before stopping. Taking my phone out, I called the arms dealer.

"Hey ya girl!" he said when he answered his phone.

"Hey Larry," I said, glad he answered his phone. "Where ya hiding?"

"Nearly got caught last night so I had to take some time off," he told me, giving me directions to his hangout. "Just stop on by, I know you're tight. Just go right in the garage if the doors open. If not, circle a few blocks until it is. Don't want no cops driving by and writing your license plate down."

"Be right there Larry," I told him, then hung up. It was a quick drive to his place, and the door was open on his garage so I drove right in. He had the door half down before I even stepped out.

"Hey, girl, I am so glad you stopped by," he said with a big grin across his face. "You always seem to have the biggest guns."

"Oh, you might like this then," I said, opening the trunk. He stood in awe when I pulled out my latest in heavy firepower.

"That there is a SAW," he said, looking at it.

"I thought saws cut wood," I said, getting confused.

"Not a saw," he said, and I looked at him funny. "A SAW. Squad Automatic Weapon. An M249 to be precise. Shoots 5.56 NATO rounds in a metallic belt feed system."

"Got any ammo?" I said, giving him a smile.

"He he," he said, laughing. "Do I have any ammo? Well, you can say that. Follow me."

I followed him through a door and down a set of stairs. When he opened another set of doors, I was met with a gun enthusiast's dream. Rack upon rack of rifles, shotguns, pistols and ammo were packed down here, along with a rack that movies told me were rocket launchers and bazookas, though why one had two triggers and a computer system on it was beyond me.

He led me over to a rack and pulled out a few cans and opened one up. Larry then pulled out a belt of ammo, showing me the line of brass. "This here is pure poison for kindred. Feed this end into the rifle, and you got eight hundred pure rounds of hell to give them. Should be enough to cut any kindred down to size."

"I'll take a few boxes at least," I told him, then looked at the gun again. "Mind showing me how to reload it?"

"Not at all," he said, motioning for me to give him the weapon. "The SAW has a big advantage of most other guns. She's open bolted. Means you cook off a full eight hundred rounds and chamber a fresh belt, she won't cook the bullets and fire off unexpectedly. Let me show ya," he said, opening the top back of the gun up. "See, this bolt stays back when it's loaded," he said, pulling a lever on the right to move the bolt back. It locked in place, then he released the lever so it could snap forward. "Just take a belt, slide it in here, and lock this back down," he said, snapping the cover back over the bolt, "and you're good to fire again."

"So easy," I said, liking it. "I thought it'd be harder."

"Pfft," he said, scoffing. "Ever seen the kid that uses this? He just got out of high school, too dumb half the time to have much of a real job, so they dumb the gun down so he can use it. I heard they have to teach half the kids in the military now how to drive."

"Is a Hummer that hard?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Na, that simple," he said. "First off, it's an automatic. Second, there's no key."

"Is the Army that basic?"

"Consider this," he said. "An MRE has everything a soldier needs to survive in the field, including toilet paper."

I laughed at that. "Toilet paper?" I managed to get out. "Going off to war but heaven forbid we send soldiers without toilet paper."

"Sounds funny for damn sure," he said, getting a good guffaw out of it himself before he pulled a gun off the shelf and showed it to me. "Back when I deployed in Saigon, we used this here, an M60. It fires a bigger round, a 7.62 NATO, and weighed a full pound more. Not many differences, but the SAW was made for one soldier to carry around fire. The M60 really needed two men, one to carry and fire it, the other to carry ammo and reload it."

"So, for little old me, it's the best I can hope for?"

"Little old you wouldn't be caught on the wrong end of this bad boy," he said.

"Close," I said, shrugging. "The Sabbat thug I took it from tried but I managed to get it away from him and use it on his buddies."

"Now that's what I like to hear," he said, stowing the M60 back in the rack. "I've seen lots of customers coming through lately with the latest in high grade fire power. This is the first I've seen a SAW, but plenty of M16's, M4's, UZI's, and Kalashnikov's. I even get a few of these, every now and then," he said, picking up a small rifle, or one very large pistol. I wasn't sure which. "An H&K MP5."

"Is it a pistol or a rifle?" I said, looking the gun over.

"What they call a submachine gun," he told me. "Technically a rifle, but can be fired by one hand in a pinch. It fires single, burst and full auto. They go for three hundred, but I can let you have it for two."

"Sold," I told him. "Give me a few extra clips and a box of ammo."

"Clips? You mean magazines," he said, holding up the ammo holders. "Common mistake. Most people don't learn the proper terms for weapons. Hell, you probably bought your first gun from me."

"I did, actually," I said, shaking my head. "My first guns I just took from the dead after I beat them with my fists."

That made Larry laugh, as he picked out a few magazines for me. I looked at his MP5's, and the various models he had. "So, what are the differences?"

"They all can fit silencers," he told me, "but this one would probably be my best. It has a forward grip for better control under fire, a built-in silencer and collapsing stock for easier hiding."

"I'll take it," I told him. "How much for the ammo on that SAW?"

"Hundred a can," he said.

"Wow, ammo doesn't come cheap, does it?"

"No, but it's high grade hollow point ammo," he told me. "It'll rip holes in whatever it hits."

"Good," I told him, counting out the bills. "I don't want whatever I shoot at getting back up to shoot me."

"If you ain't sure, shoot 'em again," he told me. "If you ever need work done on that SAW, let me know, I got people."

"Fair enough," I told him as we took the weapons up the car. I was quickly liking the idea of having a car to carry stuff around.

"So, how long you going to hang out here?"

"Oh, month or two," he said as I shut everything in the trunk. "Then I'll get a van together and start it all over again."

"Best of luck to you," I said, getting in the car. He raised the garage door and I backed out into the darkness and headed for Michele's. I needed to get things rolling, and I'd like a moment to read some before I went to bed.


	50. Chapter 50 – A Night of Learning

Author's Note: First off, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry this chapter is a bit disjointed, unorganized and a complete piece of fluff. I expected to have more to write, but I failed miserably. There's really nothing in this chapter that matters to the greater story as a whole, but there are things that happen that matters to Eliza's life later IF I ever decide to write any continuance to this story.

Yes, I said if.

See, I don't have anything to really write about for a second story after I finish this playthrough. I know I have a lot going on, but I didn't intend to just keep throwing chapter after chapter out until I got tired of it. Stories have a beginning, and an end. Our end is coming soon.

To those that have never played the game, Vampire: The Masquerade Bloodlines, the game ends with the Player Character deciding how they want to handle the kindred of the city, then doing it. They then live with their choices, and the game ends. My intention is to end this story with the game, maybe an epilogue to wrap up one or two loose ends and showcase what is going to happen later.

While I have nothing to write about for tonight's chapter(and been unable to focus on it), the next night is the Giovanni mansion mission, then there's only five more things before the game ends. So it's going to go fast. I'll be able to concentrate better, get these cranked out faster, which means soon I'll have to either figure out the next story, which I'm trying to do now, or move on to other stories, which I have votes for.

Yes, I have other story ideas. One is Blue Planet, a Star Trek based idea of Blue Lagoon where it's a human boy and a Vulcan girl who are marooned on a deserted planet on an island with very little to help them. The other is a Sid Meier's Pirates/Pirates of the Caribbean story where I do a sort of playthrough of Sid Meier's Pirates using the cast of Disney, Dreamworks, Pixar and other films to populate the Caribbean with characters. It's pretty epic, check it out here s/12370971/20/Upcoming-Story-Ideas or Blue Planet here s/12370971/19/Upcoming-Story-Ideas

Feel free to go through my story ideas listed, because those votes(reviews) will tell me what to write next.

On to our story, such as it is.

* * *

Chapter 50 – A Night of Learning

October 7, 2004 = Thursday

~Eliza Flores~

Pulling into Michele's driveway was a bit conspicuous in such a common and cheap vehicle, given the fancy nature of her mansion and its grounds. There was a car, a Mercedes parked in front of the door, so I parked in behind it. I left my messenger bag in the front seat, knowing I was safe here and walked up to the door.

I expected Remy to answer the door. Instead, a dirty blond headed man in a light blue suit answered it, looking suave with his hair gelled back. He was slightly broad at the shoulder, and I could almost make out his muscles as the material of his suit bunched as he moved. He had the aura of security, but damn he was good looking.

"Hello," he said in a southern accent, smiling at me. "Can I help you?"

"I need to see Michele?" I asked him, and he stepped back to allow me in.

"Your name, miss?"

"Eliza Flores," I told him.

"Wait here and I'll see if she'll see you now," he said, walking swiftly into the private area where I had seen her last time.

I kept watch, soon noticing Remy in a turquoise colored dress with a shiny beaded top that sparkled in the light. She was carrying a tray with a pitcher of blood and three crystal goblets so steady she appeared to be ghosting across the floor. Even the blood never moved as she moved down the hall, not even when she stopped and smiled at seeing me.

"Mademouiselle Flores," she said, curtsying for me. "Has Messieurs Todd or Copper introduced you to my lady?"

"A man with dirty blonde hair has went to ask her," I told her, not knowing his name.

"Monsieur Copper," she said, nodding her head. "He should return shortly. He is very, spirited," she said, searching for the last word. It seemed as if she wanted to say something else, but she just curtseyed again before going down the hall.

Not a minute later, Copper came hurrying back down the hall before composing himself and addressing me. "She'll see you now."

"Thank you," I told the man. "Are you one of Michele's ghouls?"

"That I am," he said brightly. "Me and Todd's been with her for the better part of fifty years."

"Todd your friend?" I asked him as we walked along.

"We grew up together in Georgia," he told me. "Met Remy, then Michele, in New York City. Our first time in a place that crowded."

"Country boys, huh?" I joked with him.

"Deep country," he said, tugging at his jacket as we walked into Michele's private lair.

Michele rose with another gentleman from the couch as Copper and I entered the room. The first person I noticed was Michele, whom I gathered dressed specifically to stand out as she wore a bodice either made of diamonds, or crystal beads, making her sparkle from collar to the hem of her formfitting black silk pencil skirt. The other man in the room was a dark haired individual in a tailored gray suit, who reached out and took my hand.

"I am hoping you are Miss Flores," he said in a faint British acccent.

"I am," I said, as he kissed my hand.

"Then I am delighted," he said, giving me a devilish smile that raised all my red flags.

"This is my childe, Felix Barker," Michele said, introducing the man and confirming my feelings.

"Felix, please," he said, his smile still plastered across his face. "I understand you wish to lease the building I was planning on making into a studio?"

"I am, yes," I said, as he and Michele sat back on the couch. I sat across from them in a high backed chair, settling myself in for what could be difficult negotiations with Felix.

"Good," he said, putting his right ankle over his left knee to cross his legs. "I have a place in Santa Monica, they are finishing the building itself now, that I wish to part with, temporarily if not permanently."

"I am willing to buy if you wish to part with it," I told him, noticing his slightly aggressive look for a moment before he forced himself to relax. With a mental dive, I looked at his aura, seeing a wave of red pulsating throughout it. Not knowing what it meant, I didn't bring it up.

"I am," he said, rather flatly. "It is the last of a failed experiment of mine."

"A form of art?" I asked and he nodded.

"The Fey," he said, rubbing his hands on his pants leg. "A group of young girls I had groomed into a singing sensation to capitalize on the recent boy and girl bands that are prominent in the music industry at the moment. The girls I had groomed not only had an amazing sound, but were each capable of being models, such were their physical beauty."

"What happened?"

"We were recording an album when we were attacked by a Sabbat pack," he told me, and I winced. "They ripped my girls apart while I fought them off, losing all but one in the end. The poor girl might have died as well as the bastards ripped her throat out."

"You ghouled her?" I said, getting the last piece of Sugar's puzzle.

"I did, but her voice never returned," he told me. "She ran away that day, and I have yet to see her since. By now, her blood will have run out and she will be normal again."

"She's in Santa Monica," I told him, getting a raised eyebrow from him. "She works for me as an exotic dancer, though right now I am between clubs."

"I see," he said, looking at his leg. When he raised his head, the red pulsing through him seemed to ebb some. "Has she ever regained her voice?"

"No," I told him, and he relaxed into the couch some. "She's fully mute."

"Then she is truly ruined," he breathed in an almost unheard whisper. "And I am left with nothing."

"Then you have no need to keep the last vestiges of your failed project?" Michele said, prompting Felix to sit straighter.

"No, I don't," he agreed. "I am, uh, grateful that you kept Dianne O'Reilly from breaking masquerade when she was supposed to be under my care."

"Is that her name," I said, nodding as I took it in. "We just call her Sugar. It's her stage name at the club."

"Hmm," he said, thinking on something as he opened the binder on the coffee table between us. "I can sign the club over to you for about three hundred grand," he told me, showing me blue prints and layouts of the club that he had.

It was a large building, designed to be more of a warehouse from what I could tell, but the finalized blue prints he had showed me where he was going to put recording studios and the professional equipment required to run his company from. The pictures he provided showed that the shell was mostly finished, only a few things were left of the outside, mostly finishing pieces for the trim. The parking lot was paved, but not painted with parking lines, and the interior was just getting the insulation installed.

Not a bad start, and it would allow me to change the plans without wasting any money. I looked closer at the final plans, finding the building was about two hundred feet by a hundred fifty, plenty of room for my club. I did have some benefits in that I had way more room, both for customer parking and parking the girls on the side with their own private entrance, with room to get a delivery truck in to bring in beer.

"How much would you want for it?" I asked him.

"Enough to recoup my losses," he said, and I nodded. "Five hundred thousand."

"That's very doable, Felix," I told him. "I can write you a check now, or I can pay you in cash later this evening."

"A check will suffice," he told me, and I stood.

"Let me go get one from my car," I told him and he nodded. Copper escorted me to my car, where I retrieved the check. I was going to have to visit Walsh and get my checkbook replaced, as I was now using my last check. I borrowed a pen from Copper, wrote it out, and then returned to Felix and Michele and handed it to him.

"I left it blank on whom to pay it to," I told him, as he folded it and put it in his suit pocket. He then pulled out a pen, and a folded sheet of paper from the leather binder, folding it out to show it was the deed in question. He signed it over, then slid it back in the binder and handed it to me.

"And you have one property," he said as I tucked the binder under an arm. "If you ladies will excuse me, the night is young."

He stood, kissing both of our hands before leaving me alone with Michele. I couldn't help but feel he was out to ruin another woman's life, and hated him even as I did business with him. With him gone, I sat across from Michele again and took in the elder kindred's peaceful presence.

"I was hoping he would sell his property to you," she said, after he had gone. "Like so many, he is more ephemeral. I find him more and more unlikeable with each night. Especially with this latest travesty of his."

"You don't approve of his girl band?" I asked her and she shook her head, a wave of green pulsing through her aura.

"I do, actually," she told me. "They were going to release under my label. They had a unique sound that I found refreshing."

"Speaking of refreshing," I said, getting a bashful smile from Michele who leaned her head over to reveal her neck as if in invite, "Where do you get your constant supply of blood and could I get some shipped to the motel?"

"I have a contact who supplies me," she told me. "I thought human blood didn't satisfy you anymore?"

"It doesn't," I responded, "But I need it for the kindred I have living with me."

"Ah, a herd of kindred to feed from," she said, nodding her head slightly. "They are comfortable with this arrangement?"

"As can be expected," I told her. "They lack the means to survive on their own, so they're going to live with me. They'll need blood, and having it readily available helps us both."

"I can set up a delivery along with a menu of sorts for future purchases.," she informed me with a smile. "Payment can be arranged with them directly, as can the quality of the blood."

"Great," I told her, nodding my head, then gave her the address to the motel. "Have them send it there, I'll tell the manager to expect it and reserve it for me."

"Very well," she said, nodding to Copper who still stood by the entryway. He was writing it all down, and I had the feeling he was going to be doing the legwork on my request.

"Ya'll have it before sunset," he told me.

"Thank you," I told him as he put his notebook away.

"Ah, it's nothing," he said, giving me a smile as he straightened his suit jacket. "What Michele had me doing this past week..."

"Is not any of Miss Flores's concern," Michele said sternly, cutting her ghoul off.

"My apologies, ma'am," he said, bowing his head respectfully.

I looked between the two, wondering what was up with that, then decided the best way was to separate the pair. "Well, if that will be all, the night beckons," I told them as I stood. I was banking on Michele being too much of an old world lady to show her guest the door, counting on her subordinate to do it instead.

"Another night, then," she said smiling as I turned and left. Copper was right behind me, but Michele stayed seated on the couch.

I left quietly, with Copper following me right to the door. When we stopped, I looked around the foyer, seeing we were alone. Peering over my glasses, I hit Copper with dominate, who immediately went slack as he fell under my control.

"What were you doing this past week?" I asked him.

"Assassinating targets," he told me. "Toreadors Lela Lockwood and Heather Jones along with Brujah members Dresler, Ricky, and George. We were unable to get the Ventrue Mueller."

"Why would she want them removed?" I asked him.

"They were the rallying points the prince was using against the Anarchs," he told me, his eyes still glazed over.

"Alright," I said, then looked into his eyes and hoped I was doing this right as I projected my will into the ghoul. "You will not remember this conversation, just that you bid me goodnight and I left."

"Yes ma'am," he said, turning away as I stepped out the door.

I got in my car, finding the Mercedes gone, and left Michele's mansion behind. Behind the wheel, I sighed, not really having any direction to go now. Walsh wasn't really expecting me, and Yukie was likely to sleep till almost morning. I couldn't go crash with Meredith and Eloise, as they were likely studying the clan secrets of thaumaturgy and I wasn't invited.

The secrets, I mused, thinking of Celeste's red binder in my bag. It was filled with secrets, I just needed to peruse them. That made me think of Eloise's advice that I needed to start my own Grimoire, so she could chart what I could and couldn't do. I headed to a nearby supermarket and picked up a gray binder, some loose leaf paper and some markers, pens and coloring pencils to write and draw with, as well as dividers, labels, and a pouch to keep everything sorted for my 'teacher.'

After that, I decided to head down by the beach in Santa Monica. On the way, I couldn't help but think about Michele assassinating the prince's power base, which was the only reason I could come up with. If that were true, Michele played serious in her politics.

The more I thought about it, the more I came to hate vampire politics. While I could understand the rules about killing, and respect them, other rules made less sense. Of those, the right to sire. While it did stop kindred like Felix Barker from siring willy nilly, what of us who wished to sire a close friend? I could have sired Sammy when I first met her as a kindred, maybe even saving her life against the Sabbat as she would have been with me in my safe room.

I sighed, knowing full well some of the Camarilla's ideas were practical, such as the masquerade. We couldn't advertise our existence to the kine, as they'd likely hunt us down and eliminate us. But the death penalty for everything smacked of overreach I was used to as an American. That part I hated. In that regard, I guess I stood with the Anarchs against the prince, but I couldn't help but feel that if the person in charge backed off with the overreach, maybe things would work out.

Michele wanted to be that person, but her quiet assassination had me worried. The prince was many things, but he moved rather openly. Of course, as prince he could just rig a masquerade breach and behead the guy, or girl, publicly and people wouldn't bat an eye. Maybe sleeping in a locked coffin would be worth it.

Arriving at the Santa Monica Pier parking lot, I parked near the staircase to the beach. I took a moment to put my binder together, then pulled my messenger bag out with me as I got out of the car. I walked down the stairs, coming out on the beach only to find it empty. Apparently no thin blooded vamps were hanging out around here anymore.

Going down by the water, far enough from the water that I wouldn't get wet but see and hear the waves, I sat down in the sand and pulled Celeste's Grimoire out. For maybe the first time, I opened it up and actually looked at it, finding Celeste liked to organize as much as I did. The first page was probably her first lesson, and it covered familiars.

She detailed several things about them, mostly that they were seen as an early replacement for their avatars. The familiars they had now were now were mainly messengers, moving about the chantry carrying messages for their masters. It was encouraged among the Tremere to have at least one familiar, most having two with the other kept near them at all times. At the bottom of the page, Celeste made mention of the spell used to alter her familiar, named Ceri, into her more Barbie doll-like visage so she could tolerate its presence.

I looked at the spell to make a familiar again, finding it was fairly simple, but the hard part was that it said I had to pool blood into my hand to draw with. Looking at my hand, I tried to do it, but failed. Sighing, I concentrated on my hand, and mentally tried to force my blood to respond. With what seemed like a migraine level effort, blood seeped out of my palm, forming a small ball in my palm. Cupping it with my hand, I used my right to flatten out the sand in front of me, then began to dab some of the blood onto my fingertip and draw the pentegram and glyphs onto the sand. It formed an almost gel-like ribbon, lifting and responding to my finger as it moved over the sand.

When I was done, I followed the last step, holding the remainder of the blood from my palm over the pentagram. There was no way of telling what I was going to get, either a cat or a gargoyle, so saying a silent prayer that this worked, I dropped the blood into the pentagram. It grabbed the blood in the pentegram, then began to morph into a large ball. I was wondering if I should grab my flamethrower to kill the demonic spawn when a gargoyle a foot tall, a miniature twin of the one I had fought in Hollywood, formed on the sand.

It looked up at me, it's eyes dark orbs, and flexed its muscles before settling down.

"Master?" it asked with a gravelly voice.

"Yes, I am your master," I told it.

"Okay," it said, sitting down like I was.

It didn't seem to want to do anything, so I let it sit while I looked at the spell to transform it into something more pleasing to the eye. It was a simple spell, but it required me to recoat my palm with my blood again. I closed my eyes, forcing the blood out into my palm, then holding it outwards, and silently praying it worked, pressed it to my gargoyle. It coated my gargoyle, seeming to make it shift and distort.

When my blood faded away, my gargoyle was still a foot tall, but now had pale creamy skin and fiery red hair. Its body was long and lean with well define abs and muscles, and judging by the well-endowed rack the gargoyle had, clearly a female though I couldn't check for genitalia as she was still sitting. She looked at her body, clearly feeling out her muscles, and running her fingers through her bright red hair.

She still didn't seem inclined to say anything, so I opened my binder and began writing and detailing what had taken place. Once I had that done, I picked up Celeste's Grimoire and began to peruse through it. She had tabs for various paths of power, most of which seemed to branch from old magic terms.

There was a tab in the back labeled ghouls, so I flipped to it. The first page was just on how to make one, and the second was on how to make something called a revenant. Looking at the page, I realized it wasn't something I could create by giving my blood to a kine, it was something I had to create within my ghoul. A revenant was a ghoul made not by kindred, but by specifically breeding ghouls. According to Celeste's records, they were more powerful than ghouls, but just as loyal.

The difficulty with them was in the amount of time taken to make one. Since they were bred, they required time to grow and age, which according to the notes I was reading, started to slow when the subject hit puberty. After several years of increased production of vampiric blood, their aging slowed even more, but never fully arrested. Since their bodies could produce their own vitae, based on the original vitae they were born with, they remained as loyal to their kindred domitor as a ghoul would.

I thought it over, looking at the notes Celeste had added and where she had detailed several families. Apparently the Tremere had a family of revenants called Ducheski, who maintained the libraries and laboratories for the clan in Europe. Since they were loyal, the Tremere didn't have to worry about losing their secrets. They also provided a source of security that was masquerade friendly.

It was definitely an idea, one I might pursue with Yukie, though I didn't know where I might get a guy to impregnate her. Brian was gone, having committed suicide, and Duke had been killed in a Sabbat raid. It was, I decided, unnecessary for me to have a male ghoul get Yukie pregnant, I could just dominate a guy into doing it if it were necessary.

I shook my head, wondering if it were the best thing to create a family of servants. The morals and ethics involved in such an undertaking were staggering, but it wasn't as if I were ripping them from a life, they'd be starting a life I gave them, literally from diapers.

"Something wrong?" my familiar said as I set the Grimoires aside.

"Just thinking of creating a revenant family from my ghoul, even though I promised I wouldn't create any more ghouls," I told her, deciding that since my gargoyle so resembled a female now I'd call it such.

"But are they the same thing?" she asked me.

"Not from what I can tell," I told the her. "A ghoul is a human I rip from their life by feeding them my blood and forcing them to serve me. A revenant is a child born to said ghoul who is already under my control from birth. They will live to serve me, always."

"So why are you undecided?" she asked. "If you made a promise not to rip someone away from their life, why not create new life instead?"

"I guess I'm just worried about breaking my promise," I told her. "I don't like doing that."

"So, what do you want to do now?" she asked as I put the Grimoires back in my bag.

I sighed, not really having any idea what I wanted to do. "Got any ideas?" I asked her, and she looked down at her naked body.

"Shopping?" she said sheepishly before her little heart shaped face fell into a grimace. "I'm sitting naked in sand. It's like sandpaper."

"How do you know about sandpaper?" I asked her.

"I think I know what you know," she said, face scrunched up. "Like putting on makeup, reading, math. I just don't have any memories of yours."

"Gotta love magic, right?" I said, as I looked down to where she was dusting the sand off of her.

"Can it remove sand from places I didn't know I had?" she groused, reaching down her backside.

"I don't know those spells," I told her, shrugging my shoulders for emphasis.

"So, can I get some clothes?" she asked, standing up tall. If she were human sized, she'd be a hottie so I could understand her wanting to cover up.

"Sure," I told her, giving her a wan smile as I tried to figure out where to get her clothes. She was doll sized, so maybe if I bought a couple of dolls she could wear their clothes. "Doll clothes?"

"Maybe," she said, climbing up on on my leg. She was so light, I barely even noticed her presence. "Could I go with you inside?"

"Maybe," I said, thinking it over. I suddenly wished I had a coat. "I can't let you be seen."

"Why?" she said, sounding so much like a three year old I almost bust out laughing. "All I have to do is not move and people think I'm a doll. I'm the right size."

"You have a point," I told her. "But it's going to look funny if I just carry a naked Barbie into the store that's anatomically correct."

"Oh," she said, looking down at her body and pushing on her boobs. They moved like a real pair, and she grimaced. "It's like the middle of the night. Think anyone will notice?"

"Maybe," I said, then had a thought. "I'll take you inside in my pocket. When we get to the toy section, I can pull you out we can make a choice together."

"That'll work," she said.

"Let's head out and find a supermarket," I told her, cradling her as I stood. "If nothing else, I'll buy you a handkerchief and you can wear it like a toga until we can get something better."

"Alright," she said, as I walked us back to the car. I set the bag in the passenger seat while my gargoyle moved to sit on the center console. She didn't block the rear-view, but I didn't know if were because of her link to me and my clan curse or because she wasn't tall enough to block it. Briefly angling the mirror down, I found she lacked a reflection as well.

I drove us around, looking for a supermarket, not finding one that was open. According to the clock on my radio, the time was past three in the morning. Pretty much everything was closed at this hour, a fact I shared with my gargoyle.

"That sucks," she groused.

"I don't suppose you know of the sledgehammer incident?" I asked her,

"No," she said.

"I needed a sledgehammer once, but since the stores were closed broke in and stole one," I told her. "Now, we can't be seen by cameras, but I don't want them finding us by other means. So we go in, get what we came for, and get out fast."

"Ooh," she said, as I drove by the front entrance to a toy store.

A brief look through the front entrance gave me a myriad of shadows to jump to, and I parked the Civic around the corner in the alley, hopefully out of sight of any roving cops. My gargoyle climbed up onto my shoulder, holding onto my hair as I got out of the car, and I jumped us into the shadows inside the store.

"That was quick," she said from my shoulder as I looked around.

"Instant teleportation," I told her, heading into the doll section.

"Can I do that?" she asked, but I just shrugged.

"I don't know what you can and can't do," I told her, seeing stack upon stack of dolls. Problem was, they were all seven inches tall. "When we get back to the motel, I'll take you up to Eloise and ask her."

"Okay, she said, as we got to a section filled with foot tall dolls. The dolls represented various cultures and ethnic groups, but they matched her body type and apparent age.

"What do you think?" I told her as we studied the various dolls.

"Ooh, that one," she said, pointing me to a doll marked 'Marisa.' It was of a young woman in a pink bustier and beige cargo pants and carried a snakeskin leather purse with a golden chain around her neck. I picked it up, and nodded my head.

"Good choice," I told her as I tucked it under my arm. "Any others?"

"How about that one?" she said, pointing me down to a clothing set. It was of an old English riding habit, complete with boots, jacket, hat and riding crop, and I smiled though she couldn't see it as I picked it up.

"No doll to dispose of either," I told her.

"You mean life size mannequin?" she smarted back and I chuckled. "I wonder if I could pose them?"

"Next thing I'll be getting you a doll house to live in, furniture, animals..."

"Could we?" she said, making me laugh again.

"One more," I told her, stepping down the aisle.

"That one looks nice," she said, pointing out a princess styled Barbie in a purple gown. It certainly looked exquisite.

I picked up the boxed doll, tucking it with the other two, when the top row caught my eye. The marketing department had certainly kept the naughtily dressed dolls from prying innocent eyes, but us adults, were subject to the insanity. Why any adult would get these lingerie clad dolls for their kid was anyone's guess, unless they were meant for adults. But why would adults play with dolls? What are they teaching kids today?

Taking one down, I examined the lace babydoll top it was wearing and began nodding. Holding it up to my gargoyle, I could hear her chuckle. "Bit provocative, isn't it?" she said, taking it in.

"Maybe one day you'll meet a cute boy gargoyle..." I started to say but her laughter was immediate and deep.

"You mean...you think...I might actually...screw!" she said, pausing only briefly to blurt out her words.

"Stranger things have happened," I told her. "Nothing else, you really want to dress fancy all the time and not have something nice to relax in?"

"Well, no," she said, agreeing with me as she sobered up. "How about that one?"

I picked up the doll off the shelf, finding it was a redhaired doll wearing a white satin slip trimmed in black lace with sheer black stockings and heels. It worked for the relaxed around the house theme, so I tucked it under my arm, reaching my limit. If I tried to pick up one more, I was going to drop something.

"Ready to get back to the car?" I asked and she gave a whoop. Taking a step, I put us at my car's door, opened it up, and set the dolls on the dash before sliding in. "Which one first?"

"The riding habit one," she said, and I used the car's key to open the package for her. She immediately pulled the pants on, then the shirt and vest combo. She was a bit more buxom then the doll it was intentioned for, but fit otherwise. She then pulled out a boot, and gave it a test squeeze.

"It's rubber!" she said excitedly, jamming her foot down in the boot. "Wow, and it fits! I thought it'd be like plastic or something. I can totally wear these."

I watched as she got dressed, even putting on the jacket and hat. "I so need a horse."

"All things in time," I said, wondering if there were any way of making that work. I set the other doll boxes in the passenger seat, then started the car and headed home.

"So, do I get a name?" she asked, sitting back on the center console.

"Hadn't thought that far ahead," I told her as we drove on. "Any ideas on your own name?"

"How about Dominique," she said, shifting around to sit under the stereo where I could see her.

"That can work," I told her, making her smile. "It's going to be a bit of a drive to the motel, you can put some music on if you like."

"Thanks!" she said, getting up and turning on the stereo. She used the buttons to turn it to a country station, which was something I only listened to when depressed. Country music was the music of pain. Listen to some of it and tell me it isn't true.

Soon, Dominique was singing along with the radio, songs I was sure I had never heard before as we traveled down the freeway. She did at least have a good singing voice, making it tolerable, but I was still glad when we pulled into the motel and I was able to stop the music. Dominique might be a cowgirl, but I certainly didn't walk that way. Lord help me if she got hold of a proper cowgirl outfit.

"Let's go meet Eloise, okay?" I asked her, picking her up and cradling her in my arms. I grabbed my bag, sliding the strap around my neck and sliding out.

I walked up the stairs, Dominique sitting straight and still on my arm as we passed several girls coming in from a night of partying at Confessions. They were drunk, which I could understand since they were paid to party, though now they were hanging out on balcony as they wound down from their highs.

I knocked on the door, after getting many strange looks for the doll tucked in my arm, and Eloise opened it to allow me inside. Meredith sat at the floor, writing in her binder on the coffee table as a large black cat looked on. It looked up at us before it came closer, carefully walking around the binder with its tail high in the air.

"Funny cat," Dominique said, giggling at something I couldn't hear.

"Gargoyle, huh," Eloise said as I set Dominique on the table next to the black cat. Keenan jumped up to join them, and I had the feeling they were about to have an important conversation.

"Yeah," I said, watching our familiars. "Got her some clothes off a doll. Seems to like country music too."

"Keenan is into death metal," she said, giving me a smile. "Something about the process makes them kind of reverse mirrors of us. Running theory is it's the parts of our psyche we miss less that becomes the familiar. That which you hate, tastes you don't like, become their reality."

"Does that mean that she'll like strawberries?" I said, thinking of the fruit and shuddering. I'd only had it once but I could still remember the trip to the emergency room when my tongue swelled up. Turned out I was allergic.

"Maybe," she said as Dominique swung up on Keenan's back and grabbed hold of his fur. She gave a whoop as Keenan led the group into the other room, probably for some kind of heart to heart talk. "But they don't eat or drink. Keenan does like to stretch out when he's not busy, but I always figured that was the cat in him."

"You don't like stretching out?" I asked her and she chuckled.

"I'm never not busy enough to stretch out," she told me. "Even running what I did in the chantry took up a lot of time. Like now, I've gotta train Meredith to take care of herself before she steps into something she can't handle. I'm covered for the next month."

"Don't mind me," Meredith groused as she wrote in her binder. She had a leather bound book she was transcribing from, and it seemed to be intense. "There was a reason I dropped out of school, but I can't remember it for all the writing."

"Get used to it," Eloise told her. "We train to handle Gehenna. We know it's imminent, but we have no idea what it entails."

"But locking Lasombra in his prison helped," I said, nodding in agreement.

"Temporary fix," she said, crossing her arms. "He'll escape again. Next time, we might not be able to put him back in."

"Any thoughts of going back and diablerizing him?"

"Personally," she said, hanging her head. "I'd rather kill him than drink his blood. I don't care if it makes me next to God. Just reading some of the reports that Tremere himself went through will ensure I never commit diablerie."

"Let's just say I agree with you," I told her. "I heard once another antediluvian rose, named Zapathasura."

"Ravnos antediluvian," she said, nodding absently. "Word was it took an entire order of mages and the Kue-Jin to bring him down. Fight lasted over two days. They dropped bombs on everyone, killing everyone but him. He was weak enough by then to be killed by the mages."

"So, one out of thirteen?"

"One," she agreed. "One of the reports I read said that millions of people died and several thousand Kue-Jin went missing. The truth is, no one knows, and that was just one. The trickster clan. What happens when Saulot truly goes apeshit? Or the Ventrue's? You want to fear someone? Fear Ennoia, the great hunter of clan Gangrel. Any one of those could potentially kill millions on their own. Maybe even billions. We train to take down each and every clan, so if nothing else, we're last clan standing."

"What about us Methuselahs?" I asked her.

"If you have no kindred to feed from, you'll frenzy, fall into torpor and repeat the cycle till you die," she told me, her sad look sending cold tendrils of fear through me. "Give it a century, maybe two, and you'll be exposed to the sun where you'll fry."

"So much for immortality," I muttered. The conversation was way too heavy, so I decided to lighten it up. "So, what all can gargoyles like mine do?"

"Just the basics," she told me. "Though they're made of our blood, they can't use it for anything. Periodically, once a year or so, they get lethargic. A dose of our blood returns them to normal, sort of a pick-me-up."

"That's good to know," I told her as Keenan streaked back in, Dominique riding him like a horse. Keenan seemed to love it, circling around before streaking up and across the couch. I knew Dominique loved it; she was whooping like a cowgirl on a wild ride, which if you were riding a horse that could scale cliffs in a single bound, it certainly had to be.

"Ready to head home?" I told her, my words making Keenan stop his circling.

"Do I have to?" she whined as Keenan brought her close.

"It's getting late," I told her, feeling more like her mom than her master. "You three can play more another day."

"Alright," she said, sliding off Keenan's back.

"You mind if I make an observation," Meredith said, raising her head from her writing. "What's the advantage of a gargoyle over a cat? I don't have to clothe a cat, or really get him anything. Plus, he can protect me during the day by attacking an intruder without breaking the masquerade. What advantage does a gargoyle have?"

"They can talk to people other than their master directly," I told her.

"Plus, they can actually handle and move objects, so they can organize a desk or return books to the library," she said. "They can, to a point, act as real secretaries including typing, answering phones, and arrange deliveries. Also, since they aren't asleep during the day and don't have light restrictions, they can move freely around a house and monitor for security threats, including more modern security systems with keypads."

"I guess that's helpful," Meredith conceded. "Hadn't thought about a security system, yet."

"Which we'll have in spades when I get a permanent place built," I told them. "Also, starting tomorrow night, I'll be providing blood packs to you two, so you won't have to go hunting."

"Great," Eloise stated. "The way you rip blood out of my neck makes me almost frenzy."

"It'll be safer this way," I told her, agreeing with her, then decided to ask her about revenants. "I came across something about ghouls in Celeste's Grimoire, called a revenant. Mind filling me in?"

"It was discovered long ago that if you allowed female ghouls to breed, their children retained some of the blood of their kindred master," she told me. "They're half and half, half human, half kindred. Before our magic could ensure their creation, they were made by ghouling a woman and getting her pregnant. The resulting child was born with a taste for blood, and when ghouled and bred again with a similar child made a revenant."

"They sound, sick," I said.

"Mentally, yes," she told me. "To keep the number of initial ghouls down, incest was rampant. Honestly it makes the royal families of Europe tame. The younger ones tend to be the most normal, but the older ones, yeah, you don't want to read those books. They have no qualms about whom they have sex with."

"But what about the Tremere-made revenants?" I asked her.

"They're more sane," she told me. "But they require more care in breeding. You have to keep the genetics varied to keep them sane, and you have to use females to continue the process as it guarantees the child is a revenant as well. Otherwise, the child is base human with a taste for blood."

"You're awful blaise about all this," I told her, and she just shrugged.

"It's not that I don't have the time, it's that I don't have the time," she said, then chuckled. "Maybe I should say, I might have thousands of years to devote to the process, but to micromanage my ghouls lives? That I don't have time for."

"Yeah, well," I said, shifting on my feet as I thought things over about what I was going to reveal and not wanting to reveal too much. "After I get things settled with the prince, I'm retiring to my home. I hated politics when living. And I really hate the politics that kindred play."

"Don't know if I'll get out of the house long enough to care," Meredith said sourly, looking at her books with clear scorn.

"I'm with her," Eloise said. "Tremere don't play politics. At least not the politics the prince wants to play. Now, if it were like it were before all the Ventrue showed up, I'd be getting ready to swing."

"Pretty wild?" I said, remembering what Damsel told me of the old Anarchs.

"Personal power was all that mattered," she told me. "And no one is more powerful than a Tremere mage."

I give her a smile, catching her eye. She held resolute for a moment, but I saw her fears grow as I darkened the room. She looked around warily, but the bulbs couldn't hold back the shadows I was unleashing. Her fears didn't ebb with the shadows as I let the bulbs fill the room with light again.

"Maybe I was wrong," she said in a low tone.

"And I still don't know what all I can do with it," I told her.

"I read a rumor once, mostly just a line of text in an old tome, that said Lasombra walked wherever he wanted, when he wanted by blocking the light of the sun itself."

"Maybe I'll try it sometime," I said, shrugging at a thought. "Out in the desert where no one can see it if I can do it."

"How long do you think you can hold it?" Eloise asked.

"I don't know," I told her, then saw her thoughtful expression and grew concerned. "Why?"

"Because, if you can hold it, especially over a large area, so can Lasombra," she told me and I felt a chill run up my spine. "He might even be able to do it worldwide."

"That would break the masquerade the world over," I said, and Eloise nodded slowly. "If he can hold it, we're talking a world ending event. Plants would stop growing, animals all over would die, and people would follow."

"Then us," Eloise said.

"Then me," I said silently. "Gehenna."

"Gehenna."

With that sad thought, I opened the door and walked out, letting the door slowly close behind me. Even Dominique stayed silent in my arms as I walked us down the now deserted balcony to my room, the pinking of the sky telling me dawn was approaching. When I went in to my room, the bed was empty. A look around the room gave evidence that Yukie had woken up and showered.

"Can I watch TV?" Dominique asked as I sat her down on the bed.

"Sure," I told her, laying the remote beside her. "Just keep it down. People with hangovers are sleeping."

"Thanks!" she said, and immediately began looking for something to watch before settling on an all cartoon network. I sat to the table, pulling Celeste's Grimoire out and flipping back to the revenant section. It seemed so easy, and I had the female ghoul already.

I heard the bathroom door open, said ghoul stepping out with a town wrapped around her and a towel in her hair. Looking at her like that, I could see her fending the men off with a baseball bat if I asked her to dress sexy in a short dress. A sudden need rose in me, and I frowned as I looked at the page containing the spell again. According to Celeste's notes, if I wrote the spell around her navel, the blood would soak into her skin and make her fertile within moments, holding for a day as her womb held the egg in the beginning of the luteal phase before allowing the body to eject the egg and beginning menstruation.

It was a fancy way of saying I had a day from the moment I wrote the spell on her body to get her pregnant. Watching her as she dried her hair and brushed her teeth, I had doubts about forcing bear a revenant child.

"Yukie," I asked her as she stepped into the room. "Mind if I ask you some questions?"

"You may ask dem..." she began to say, before cutting herself off with a shake of her head. "My apologies. I shouldn't call you demon."

"Call me Eliza," I told her, and she nodded. "Will you do anything and everything I ask of you?"

"I am yours," she said, looking unsure even as she said it.

I stood, moving closer to the ghoul. I removed her towel, setting it aside on the dresser. Yukie looked at the floor, but she didn't try to cover herself.

"Entirely mine?" I asked her and she gave me a quick nod.

I pooled the blood into my hand, taking a knee in front of her. "Hold still," I told her, and drew the spell on her stomach. She seemed to quake as I wrote the glyphs, but didn't move away.

"What are you doing?" she asked me, as I wrote the last one. The blood glowed for a moment, then was absorbed into her skin as if it were rubbed away. Figuring the spell was done, I stood.

"I'm using you to make a better class of ghoul," I told her. "They'll be born loyal to me."

"And my husband?" she said, her voice faint as she tried to take it all in.

"Wait here," I told her, going to the door and walking out into the predawn. I was headed to the manager's office, but saw a familiar looking ginger getting ice out of the machine.

"Hangover?" I asked him, and he nodded.

"Was going to make a smoothie with the hair of the dog that bit me," he said, filling his ice bucket from the slow producing machine. It was probably emptied by all the party goers making their own concoctions. I moved closer, propping myself up against the machine and the wall as I waited for him to look up.

"Damn thing is..." he said, finally lifting his head and I hit him with domination to cut him off mid-sentence. The moment I was looking at my own body, I moved to catch myself before I fell, letting my body fall over my shoulder as I used his stronger muscles to heft my small form over his shoulder.

"So easy," I said, taking what ice he had and my body back to my room. I fished my room key out of my pocket and opened the door to find Yukie standing where I left her. She covered herself when the door opened, then concern painted her face as she recognized my body.

"Eliza!" she said, rushing to take possession of my body.

"I'm fine," I told her, setting my body in the chair. I looked so lifeless just sitting there that I leaned myself over to lay my head on the desk so as to be sleeping. "It's what happened to me when I took possession of you."

"Oh," she said, still looking unsure. "What are you going to do now?"

"Make a revenant," I told her, pushing her towards the bed. My gargoyle made an eww sound, but I shushed her with a look. Yukie gave me a brief look of despair, before settling herself onto the bed. It seemed she really would do whatever I told her.

"I am ready," she whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

I climbed on top of her, positioning myself to make a ghoul in my ghoul. I expected Yukie to say no, but she never did, taking everything I decided to give her.

* * *

Begin Omaku 1

This omaku is a different idea on what Copper was doing for Michelle. I dropped it for reasons. The science is sound though.

* * *

"Researching," he told me. "Remy can't have kids, and I was tasked with finding out why that is."

"What do you mean?" I asked him. "She had a beautiful daughter."

"Yes," he said, frowning. "Beautiful singing voice too."

"How do you know what she sounds like?" I asked him. "If you only met Remy fifty years ago, you couldn't have met her daughter. She died in the forties."

"Remy has a record she keeps," he told me. "She plays it sometimes during the day when she misses her daughter too much."

"Alright," I told him. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing," he told me. "The ladies at the college couldn't tell me anything other than she's type A positive."

"Your blood type?" I asked him.

"Type A positive," he said.

"She shouldn't have a problem," I told him. "Unless..." I said as a thought hit me. "What type of blood does Michele drink?"

"Doctor's blood, usually Type A or O positive," he said, his eyes still hazy and unfocused.

"But not negative?" I asked him quizzically.

"Too rare," he said.

"Test her blood again," I told him, my doctor's training giving me hints at an answer but needed testing to be sure. "This time, do a full blood draw and take several samples. I'm not a doctor, but I'm guessing she's a negative blood type. If that's the case, she can't have kids with a type positive man like you without intervention, and lot's of it. First born are lucky, the mother doesn't have time to develop the antibodies that kill the other fetuses. Check her blood again, and you might have your answer."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and he turned to walk away but I grabbed him by the shoulder and looked deep into his eyes again.

"You will not remember this conversation," I told him, pushing the thoughts into his brain and hoping I was doing it right. "When asked, you will tell everyone it was a thought you had since you are ghouls who drink another's blood."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and this time I let him walk away as I stepped out the door.

* * *

Begin Omaku 2

I briefly thought about going to the tower, but decided against it. Here's a brief exchange between Eliza and Chunk

* * *

I was pulled from my thoughts as I arrived at the tower, parking out front. A view through the glass doors had me wanting to shadow-step to Walsh's office, as I saw Chunk walking around the lobby. I no more got out of the car though, when Chunk noticed me and his face lit up in joy.

I groaned as he came to the door, holding it open for me. "Howdy darling," he said, imitating a southern accent. "Didn't expect to see you in tonight."

"I have business upstairs," I told him as I walked by him. I tried to not notice him, walking on with a quickness I hoped he couldn't match. It didn't work, as he huffed a bit to stay caught up to me.

"More business for Mister Lacroix?" he said, as I passed the lobby and up the stairs. How did such a fat man keep pace like that? Wasn't he supposed to run out of air after the first few steps? "He seems like a such a nice young man. Bet he came from a rich family."

"Because he's too young to have acquired it all on his own?" I said, hoping he'd take the hint as I punched the button.

"Well, not really, I guess," he said, looking unsure of himself. "He must be really smart because when I was that young, I was still trying to move out of my parent's basement."

I sighed, looking at the lights over the elevator willing it to work faster. I couldn't help the snark though. "What did it take for you finally move out?"

"Oh, I never did," he said. "Parents passed several years ago. Left the house to me and my brother. He's in security too."

"Swell," I grumbled, a bit grumpy he didn't take the hint. "Ever try to do anything with your life besides security?"

"Tried college, but I was burned out of the whole education thing," he told me. "Nope. Security is a nice easy job that's so easy it should be criminal."

"Easy doesn't pay as well as what's hard," I told him, thinking that what I'd been through since my embrace was criminal in and of itself. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."

"Oh you can say that again," he told me. "I thought once about becoming a cop, but I couldn't pass the physical. Not that I'm not good with guns, but they wanted me to run long distances."

"Well, you have to run a suspect down," I told him. "You can't just let them get away. They might kill someone."

"Oh, I know," he said, just as the elevator finally opened.

"Well, you can't pause life," I told him, stepping in and hitting the topmost button. "Later."

"Later lemon cake!" he called as the doors shut him out. I sagged in relief against the far wall, glad I was past him. When I got things situated better, I was going to just shadow-step upstairs.

Stepping out of the elevator, I headed for Walsh's office, finding that there were a few people standing in a sort of line along the wall. Sighing, I fell into line with the others, and waited my turn.

* * *

Begin Omaku 3

Another exchange between Eliza and Chunk

* * *

I was pulled from my thoughts as I arrived at the tower, parking out front. A view through the glass doors had me wanting to shadow-step to Walsh's office, as I saw Chunk walking around the lobby. I no more got out of the car though, when Chunk noticed me and his face lit up in joy.

I groaned as he came to the door, holding it open for me. "Howdy darling," he said, imitating a southern accent. "Didn't expect to see you in tonight."

"I have business upstairs," I told him as I walked by him. I tried to not notice him, walking on with a quickness I hoped he couldn't match. It didn't work, as he huffed a bit to stay caught up to me.

"More business for Mister Lacroix?" he said, as I passed the lobby and up the stairs. How did such a fat man keep pace like that? Wasn't he supposed to run out of air after the first few steps? "He seems like a such a nice young man. Bet he came from a rich family."

"Because he's too young to have acquired it all on his own?" I said, hoping he'd take the hint as I punched the button.

"Well, not really, I guess," he said, looking unsure of himself. "He must be really smart because when I was that young, I was still trying to move out of my parent's basement."

I sighed, looking at the lights over the elevator willing it to work faster. I couldn't help the snark though. "What did it take for you finally move out?"

"Oh, I never did," he said. "Parents passed several years ago. Left the house to me and my brother. He's in security too."

"Swell," I grumbled, a bit grumpy he didn't take the hint. "Ever try to do anything with your life besides security?"

"Tried college, but I was burned out of the whole education thing," he told me. "Nope. Security is a nice easy job that's so easy it should be criminal."

"Easy doesn't pay as well as what's hard," I told him, thinking that what I'd been through since my embrace was criminal in and of itself. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."

"Oh you can say that again," he told me. "I thought once about becoming a cop, but I couldn't pass the physical. Not that I'm not good with guns, but they wanted me to run long distances."

"Well, you have to run a suspect down," I told him. "You can't just let them get away. They might kill someone."

"Oh, I know," he said, just as the elevator finally opened.

"Well, you can't pause life," I told him, stepping in and hitting the topmost button. "Later."

"Later lemon cake!" he called as the doors shut him out. I sagged in relief against the far wall, glad I was past him. When I got things situated better, I was going to just shadow-step upstairs.

Stepping out of the elevator, I headed for Walsh's office, finding that there were a few people standing in a sort of line along the wall. Sighing, I fell into line with the others, and waited my turn.

* * *

Begin Omaku 4

Yet another exchange. It's here I killed the idea and made a gargoyle. Can I poke my eyes out now?

* * *

I was pulled from my thoughts as I arrived at the tower, parking out front. A view through the glass doors had me wanting to shadow-step to Walsh's office, as I saw Chunk walking around the lobby. I no more got out of the car though, when Chunk noticed me and his face lit up in joy.

I groaned as he came to the door, holding it open for me. "Howdy darling," he said, imitating a southern accent. "Didn't expect to see you in tonight."

"I have business upstairs," I told him as I walked by him. I tried to not notice him, walking on with a quickness I hoped he couldn't match. It didn't work, as he huffed a bit to stay caught up to me.

"More business for Mister Lacroix?" he said, as I passed the lobby and up the stairs. How did such a fat man keep pace like that? Wasn't he supposed to run out of air after the first few steps? "He seems like a such a nice young man. Bet he came from a rich family."

"Because he's too young to have acquired it all on his own?" I said, hoping he'd take the hint as I punched the button.

"Well, not really, I guess," he said, looking unsure of himself. "He must be really smart because when I was that young, I was still trying to move out of my parent's basement."

I sighed, looking at the lights over the elevator willing it to work faster. I couldn't help the snark though. "What did it take for you finally move out?"

"Oh, I never did," he said. "Parents passed several years ago. Left the house to me and my brother. He's in security too."

"Swell," I grumbled, a bit grumpy he didn't take the hint. "Ever try to do anything with your life besides security?"

"Tried college, but I was burned out of the whole education thing," he told me. "Nope. Security is a nice easy job that's so easy it should be criminal."

"Easy doesn't pay as well as what's hard," I told him, thinking that what I'd been through since my embrace was criminal in and of itself. "If it were easy, everyone would do it."

"Oh you can say that again," he told me. "I thought once about becoming a cop, but I couldn't pass the physical. Not that I'm not good with guns, but they wanted me to run long distances."

"Well, you have to run a suspect down," I told him. "You can't just let them get away. They might kill someone."

"Oh, I know," he said, just as the elevator finally opened.

"Well, you can't pause life," I told him, stepping in and hitting the topmost button. "Later."

"Later lemon cake!" he called as the doors shut him out. I sagged in relief against the far wall, glad I was past him. When I got things situated better, I was going to just shadow-step upstairs.

Stepping out of the elevator, I headed for Walsh's office, finding that there were a few people standing in a sort of line along the wall. Sighing, I fell into line with the others, and waited my turn."


	51. Chapter 51 - Party All The Time

Author's Note: A few chapters back, I wrote an omaku(extra) that showcased a bit of pornographic material. I excluded it then because I didn't want to write a porno. Well, I think I wrote one anyway.

On a side note, I feel fine for being a complete hypocrite.

You can find the full version of this chapter on Archive of our Own(Ao3). The story name is the same and my name there is identical. It's where I stash the full version of this story, and all the gory details.

Like it? Hate it? I won't know if you don't review!

* * *

Chapter 51 – Party All The Time

October 8, 2004 = Friday

~Eliza Flores~

I awoke the next night where I had hidden, under the bed. The spot had seemed perfect to hide my light sensitive body and I had only to shift into my shadow-like form to fit into the cracks to get here. It was a bit dusty though, as I shifted back out from under the bed and into the room. Sun still shone in around the curtains and a look at the clock told me it was just after five.

With a wan smile, I grabbed a bra and pantie set before I stepped into the shower, leaving the mother-to-be sitting quietly on the bed. Yukie stayed quiet, watching TV with Dominique, though now it was a western. I worried that maybe I had carried things too far with my ghoul, since she had been quiet and sulked since I used Cherry's boyfriend to impregnate her. I had then gotten him his ice before taking him back to his room and dumping him onto the floor, letting him think he'd simply lost his memory from a head bump.

Thinking of this morning had me rubbing at myself, having liked the feel of taking Yukie's virginity and her tight embrace. Yukie hadn't once complained or said no as I took her innocence, instead she took her new role on with a quiet acceptance that really surprised me.

Once I had the donor home, I gave Yukie her last orders before I slipped myself under the bed. She was to change the sheets, as the old ones were stained with fake suntan oil and her blood, and coached her on stalling Cherry until I woke up. I didn't know what I wanted to do with the young wannabe dancer, but I was intent on asking Diamond before I did anything.

After my shower, and drying myself off, I dressed in my underwear and stepped out. Yukie was setting up the makeup kit I had her buy, one of the things I forgot to get with the clothes.

"Did Cherry stop by?" I asked her as I sat in one of the arm chairs.

"No one has come for you," she told me, as she began brushing my hair.

"Good," I said, closing my eyes as Yukie began to transform me into a beautiful person again.

I sat in silence, not really having anything to say as Yukie brushed my hair dry with the help of the blow dryer. She then began to lay my makeup on, keeping it light in deference to the amount of physical activity I was going to be doing tonight. I was going to sneak into the mansion, going in armed and dangerous. I would also be carrying the SAW, having run a full third of the belt into the box under the gun before seperating the belt and feeding it into the bolt. I would also be carrying the rest of the belt around my neck in case I needed it.

Once Yukie had my makeup done, and knowing I was going to be meeting Cherry soon, I dressed in dark slacks, a pink button-up blouse and four inch heels knowing I'd switch to leather as soon as I was finished. I only wanted to check out her technique, find out if she were serious about dancing in the nude and not just hero worshiping her sister's job.

Looking around the tiny motel room though, I didn't want to do her audition here. After opening the door and checking to make sure the shadows from the nearby trees had shaded the bottom of the motel, I stepped out and headed to the manager's office and went inside.

"Hey," I said, seeing a skimpily dressed Diamond and a well dressed Jimmie talking.

"Hey, boss," Jimmie said with a smile. "Everything is going splendid around here."

"And I've got a busload of girls going to Confessions in about fifteen minutes," Diamond told me. "We might have to stagger them. Most of them are still hung over from last night."

"Last thing we need is a bunch of liver failures," I said, agreeing with her. "Try to keep enough girls there throughout the week for a party, but the weekend is all hands present."

"Sure," she said giving me a brief smile. "May we speak in private?" she asked, her face set in serious lines.

"Sure," I said, then looked at Jimmie. "Do we have a spare room? I have an audition and want some space to move around in."

"Yeah," he said, going behind his desk. "Got a room that's under remodel. Still waiting on the bed so it's not open for rent, yet."

"That's perfect," I said, taking the key he offered and putting it in my pocket. It had the number on it, so I couldn't get it confused with mine. "Shall we?" I said, opening the door for Diamond.

"Alright," she said, stepping out with me. She turned and walked around the side of the building, away from the motel and next to the street where we wouldn't be seen by anyone inside. It was only when we were well away from any prying eyes and ears she turned and faced me with her arms crossed.

"What are your intentions towards my sister?"

The question was a shock, as was her direct attitude. Diamond was usually afraid of me.

"Give her her audition," I told her. "I also want to know if she's serious about dancing before I spend money on her."

"Alright," she said, uncrossing her arms. "I was afraid you were going to do something vampiric to her.

"Nothing like that," I told her. "As I said, I won't create a new ghoul by ripping their old life away."

"I guess I'm just protective of my sister," she confessed as she let herself relax. "Though I don't guess there's anything I can do to stop you."

"Not the least bit," I told her.

"So," she said, moving to stand against the motel's wall. She looked like a hooker, but I just stood there waiting for the other shoe to drop. "What all were you going to do to check her out?"

"Mostly, get a lap dance from her to see if she's going to shirk away from exposing herself and how she feels about being touched," I told her, making Diamond nod. Taking that as a good sign, I pressed on. "Also, I'll check her out personally for anything a guy might not like, such as blemishes or scars."

"That's good," she said, continuing to nod. "What about the VIP treatment?"

"You think she's ready?" I asked her, eyeing a black Chevy as it slowed. The windows were down and the tonto inside made a kissing face to Diamond as he slowed. Diamond blushed, then walked over to the car, my kindred hearing letting me hear everything.

"Hey, chica," he said, leaning close to her. "¿Cuánto montar ese culo, niña?"

I couldn't see Diamond's face, but she didn't miss a beat. "Dos grandes para todo."

"Estoy seguro de que lo vales, pero no tengo tanto. ¿Que tal cien?"

"Ni siquiera te conseguirá una mamada," Diamond told him. The guy drove away, shaking his head as Diamond walked back, a smug look on her face.

"Two grand buys a lot," I said, bringing her up short. "You want this for your sister?"

"I," she began to say, then hung her head. "I don't know why I even did that."

"It's what Duke made you do," I said, putting an arm on her shoulder in sympathy. "Do you want your sister to lose that too?"

"No," she said, her voice high. I pulled on her shoulder and wrapped my arms around her just as she began to sob.

"It's okay," I told her, holding her tight. "You're sister is safe now."

"No she's not," Diamond argued. "There's this guy who's trying to get her started down that path, and I'm so afraid he's going to succeed."

"Red hair?" I asked and she nodded. "Let me take care of him."

"He's well liked by the staff," she told me, halfway hysterical. "It's why I can't fire him. He's like a snake, but everyone says it's a good snake and won't let me get rid of it."

"He'll be gone in a few days," I told her. She looked up at with hope and fear in her eyes, and I give her a smile. "I can influence him into leaving on his own. Since we're down and not taking on new hires, you don't have to hire him back."

"So, people would think he just left on his own?" she asked, and I nodded my head.

"And you're left blameless," I told her. "You're sister is safe from him."

"Until some other jerk in the club decides to do the same," she said, her body going slack. I knew her problem, as long as her sister wanted to join the club, it was impossible to protect her from everything and everyone.

"You don't want your sister in the club, do you?" I asked her and she shook her head.

"I never have," she told me. "I always tried to discourage her, but she's been so insistent. Could you use the same thing to get rid of her?"

"I don't think it'd last long enough," I told her, making her sag against me again as her hope flickered and died. "But I can try to scare her with the same tactics Duke used on you girls."

"You think it might work?" she asked, hope blossoming in her eyes.

"Maybe," I told her. "It all depends on her."

"Do it," she said, sagging onto her heels and hanging her head. "Do whatever you want. I'd rather feed her boxes of tissues now than see her living with them for the rest of her life."

"Alright," I said, giving her a squeeze. "If it works, we don't have to worry about it ever again. If it doesn't, we'll just make room for her, but I'll be the one who corrupts her. She'll look to us just as you once looked to Duke. Can you live with that?"

"I guess it's better than some jerk doping her up and running off with her," she told me. "I just don't know if I can watch her get passed from guy to guy when she doesn't make her weekly cover of fifteen grand."

"Then I better not fail," I told her, as I dropped my arms from around her. She was quiet as we walked around to the motel, and we watched as the girls did indeed get in a small bus to be shipped out to Confessions. Cherry was writing down names on a sheet of paper, seeming to know every girl and their skimpy outfit. Cherry herself was dressed in a purple latex crop top and micro mini with twelve inch knee high heels, which I thought a bit trashy. Cheap, but trashy.

"Hey," she said as we got closer. The last few were getting on board, including Saba and her enhanced bust along with and Star and Scarlett. "I think we got everyone we're going to get."

"You heading out with them?" I asked Diamond, noting she was dressed for it as she was as skimpily dressed as the others.

"No," she said, looking sadly at her cheerful sister who had no idea what was in store for her. "I'll be along later, though."

"Then let's get this party on the road!" Cable said, blowing the buses horn twice before closing the doors as the last girl, Star, got on. We watched them drive away, before Cherry turned to look at us.

"So, your assistant said you'd be interested in seeing me dance?" she said cheerily as we walked along the cars.

"For your audition," I told her, making her squeal in excitement. "All the girls who worked at Four-Play have to go through it. Even your sister."

"Oh, sweet," she said, though I could see the tear forming in Diamond's eye as we stopped for her to get a boom box out of the back of a turquoise colored Focus.

"We'll be in room two-oh-nine," I said steering the two towards the stairs.

"Not your private room?" Cherry asked.

"No, I want you to have room to dance and move," I told her as we walked on.

"I, I have to go check on a few things," Diamond said quickly, breaking off and heading into a nearby hallway. I could hear her stifling a runny nose, and knew she was sad for what her sister was so blindly walking into to. It was the same thing that kept me from making ghouls, ripping people's lives away. I could empathize with her on this, but in this case, I was trying to save her sister's life by scaring her away.

I led her into the room, taking in its lack of a bed. It was otherwise fully furnished, with a table and two chairs by the window and a long double dresser that had a TV on it. There was also a set of night stands with a big empty between them where the bed was supposed to be, which was where I dragged one of the chairs. I then turned the lamps on, creating a soft glow reminiscent of a night club while Cherry sat the boom box on the dresser.

"So, danced for anyone before?" I asked her, knowing she hadn't.

"No," she said, drawing the word out. "Sis won't let me dance for her or anyone at the club. I've tried to dance a few times for Hans, but I can't hardly get alone with him."

I took a seat, settling in as I've seen men do many times with my legs slightly spread. "Well, we're going to treat this as a session in the VIP room. I assume you have some sort of tape or CD to dance to?"

"A tape," she said, chewing on her lip. "But I don't know what went on in the VIP rooms."

"It was pretty much an anything goes area for an hour at a time," I told her, seeing shock coat her face. "We also dance completely nude there."

"Nude?" she said, looking unsure. "I thought we only stripped to our panties?"

"VIP is different," I told her. "All the way to bare skin."

"Alright," she said, as she hit play. I didn't recognize the song, but it had a good sensual beat that Cherry rocked her body to. She approached me, bending over to let me look down her crop top. When she stood up, she brought her hands up to cup her breasts. She was a bit clunky, but with a smile, she swung a leg over mine and pressed her chest into my face.

I didn't see her undo the crop top, but when she pulled back, she pulled it off and tossed it aside revealing her perky breasts and pink nipples. When she pushed her chest into my face again, I briefly sucked her nipple into my mouth when it passed my lips. She gasped, pulling the nipple out of my mouth by jerking straight, but continued her lap dance.

When she slid off my lap, she turned around and made a show of slipping her micro mini off her hips and showing off her purple lace G-string. She let the mini fall to the floor, kicking it towards her top. She then backed into my lap to rub her nearly bare bottom on my slacks.

She stretched out, mirroring a spooning position and giving me a good view of perky breasts and nipples. I took advantage running my up her body and cupping her breasts. Her hands flew to mine, but I shushed her.

"Just relax into it," I whispered into her ear.

Cherry gave a brief nod wriggling a little before draping her legs over mine. She ran her hands over her body, probably counting on a mirror to show what she was doing. She then straightened up, leaning forward to rub her crotch against mine. I felt a brief stirring of lust as I looked at her backside like that, and I couldn't help but run my hands down her thighs.

She seemed startled by my touching, standing up quickly. She bent over, trying to hide her embarrassment by again showcasing her derriere for me. This time she pulled her G-string down in an effort to tease me. She hesitated, making me wonder if she'd do it, before pulling it down to reveal her vagina. She let the lace fall to the floor, before stepping out of it and throwing it by her mini and top.

It only seemed to occur to her then that the only clothes she now wore were her latex heels. She straightened up as the song faded into nothing, wrapping her arm around her exposed breasts. I stood from the chair, embracing her.

"Um, what are you doing?" she asked, as I rubbed her bikini area.

"Ready to join your sister in her chosen occupation?" I asked her as I used my other hand to undo my button-up.

"You mean I passed?" she asked, her voice hesitant as if she were unsure.

"No, we start the next part," I whispered in her ear. "Bend over."

Cherry did as she was told, bending at the waist. I took my button-up off, tossing to the table then gave her waist a rub. I then formed a large toy from the shadows, the shadows making it look like hard rubber in the dim light. When I rubbed it against her vagina, Cherry jumped and darted away.

"What the..." she yelped, backing up against the dresser with a shocked look on her face. I gave her an evil grin, waving the toy at her.

"Come and take your medicine," I told her, undoing my slacks. She look mortified, watching as I kicked my heels back to the table just before my slacks joined them.

"My sister doesn't do that!" she yelled at me. My smile deepened as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Call her and find out," I challenged. "She was going to charge a guy two grand for a screw before we met you at the bus."

"My sister is not a whore!" she yelled.

"How do you think she kept your parents house?" I said, smiling at her. "Goes to college? Medical checkups? It's not cheap. You think strippers are just showered in money?"

"No," she said, her voice small.

"She fucks men because it's what they want," I told her. "You know we have a cover of fifteen grand a week."

"She might have mentioned it," she said, her voice still small and scared.

"So even at a hundred a dance, how many dances is that to make cover, and cover your expenses at home?"

"Um," she said, trying to figure it out. Her eyes grew sad though, telling me she wasn't liking her train of thought.

"How much easier is it when you make a grand or two for a fuck?" I told her, pressing the issue. "There's no cameras in the VIP section for a reason. It's so the girls can work the guys however they need to make their money."

"But," she started to say, then hung her head and heaved a big sob. I slipped my bra and pantie set off to stand there in the nude. I was almost looking forward to this, though I didn't know why.

An idea hit me, and I went over to the night stand and opened it up, reaching a hand in. In reality, I formed a strap-on like I had bought, though much bigger in size, and slipped it on. When I turned back, I could see the tears sparkling on her cheek in the lamplight.

"So, ready to join your sister?" I asked her, moving to stand in front of her. She looked up from the floor, but her eyes didn't raise past my toy.

"Yes," she sobbed, hanging her head as she stepped forward. I put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around and bending her over, and she braced herself against the dresser. I put my hands on her hips, lining myself up, even as she gave another sob.

Digging my toes into the carpet and hands on her hips to help control her, I entered her, and began the real audition.

=o=0=o=

Scene deleted due to pornographic content

=o=0=o=

When I stepped out of the motel room, the sky was a dark blue of late evening. I was redressed in the clothes I had been wearing, but Cherry had yet to pick herself off the floor. She had cried herself dry, but seemed content to be left in her misery at the moment.

The first thing I noticed though when I stepped out was Diamond sitting by the door. One look at her and her tear run make-up told me she had a good ugly cry somewhere. Judging by the angle of her runs, I'd say she had been by the door for a long while.

"Diamond?" I asked her softly, and she looked up at me.

"Is she..." she started to ask, then gave a sob.

"She decided to go through her audition," I told her, extending my hand. Diamond took it, and I lifted her to her feet.

"I heard," she said, her voice cracking a bit as she talked to me. "I couldn't watch you do it, so I left. But I had to know. So I walked up and I could hear you two...going...at…," she said before breaking into sobs again.

"I didn't just force her," I told her, giving her a hug. "I asked, told her how it was at Four-Play, and she agreed. I don't know what was the biggest shock, the sex or the fact you kept stuff from her."

Diamond dug in her pocket, then pulled out a small zipper bag with white powder in it. "Shock I can handle," she said, looking at the bag. "If you don't mind, I'm going to be with my sister."

"Go ahead," I told her, moving aside. "I'll see you another night."

Diamond just nodded, then went inside and closed the door. I gave it a moment, then concentrated and moved my sight and hearing into a shadow just past the door. I saw Diamond put the bagged powder onto the table before going to her sister.

"Anna, honey," she said, kneeling by her side. "Come on, I got something for you."

"You lied to me, Els," she said, not even moving to face her sister, just lay there staring at the wall. "You said you just danced."

"I do dance," she said, arguing the point. "You think there's another reason I put a dancing pole in the garage?"

"But you're a whore!" she yelled, then balled up tighter.

"When our parents died in that boating accident, I was just starting college," she told her sister. "We didn't have a lot of money. What was I supposed to do? I heard a girl talking about how she stripped for money for her tuition, so I figured maybe if I concentrated at it, maybe I could keep the house too."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, finally turning over and looking at her sister.

"Shame, mostly," she said, hanging her head. "My audition was just like this, except Duke never asked me if I wanted to go through with it. Once I was in my panties, he held me down and raped me. Then George, then Cable, Tim, Jimmie, Hans..."

"He, he wouldn't," she started to say but Diamond put a finger to Cherry's lips.

"I've known him for years," she told her sister. "Eleven inches, thick, kind of hairy, and he's a hair puller. I wanted to tell you, but everytime…I just…How do you even start that conversation?"

"I don't know," Cherry said.

"Well, come on," Diamond said, picking her sister up from the floor. "I got something to help you get over this."

I pulled my sight back, letting the sisters have their moment. With a sigh, I headed down to the office, finding Jimmie sitting behind the counter watching TV. The news was talking about the investigation of the sarcophagus, how they had no leads and were asking the public for help. I just shook my head as I approached the counter. They weren't getting it back if the prince had his way.

"Anything come for me?" I asked, and Jimmie spun to face me.

"Oh yeah," he said, reaching under the counter for a box. "This came in about noon. Kinda forgot about it."

Taking the box under an arm, I gave him a smile. "With all the good looking girls you have to look at, I'm surprised you have time for the news."

"No girls to look at now," he said, as I ghosted for the door. "They done loaded up and left."

"They'll be back in the morning," I told him, opening the door and stepping out.

I carried the box up to Meredith's room, pausing briefly to see Diamond teaching Cherry how to snort coke. I sighed, shaking my head at what I had done, but was confident in my decision. I had to know if Cherry was serious about joining the club and if she were ready for what was to come. I had my answer, such as it was, and I was starting to learn more about myself.

Maybe I was a lesbian. Twice now I had screwed women, though one was in a borrowed body. The second time was still ringing in me, and I couldn't help a shiver of anticipation for doing it again.

I walked away though, sad that the one person I wanted to do it with was the one person I wasn't even sure was alive. With a false smile on my face, I knocked on Meredith's door, and the newly minted kindred opened it.

"Hey," she said, letting me in. Keenan was stretched out on the couch behind Eloise, who was now dressed in slacks and a shirt. I set the box on the coffee table while Meredith got a knife to cut the tape with. When she came back, she opened it up and took out one of the blood filled bags.

"Drink up," I told her, and watched her slip the bag between her lips and drink it, leaving nothing but an empty bag behind. I picked up the literature that was laying on the top to check out later, and Eloise snaked one of the bags out herself.

"You actually got it," she said, then drained her own bag.

"Not as good as getting it from the neck," Meredith observed, throwing the empty bag in the trash. "But I guess it's like everything else. Farm fresh is the best, but it's not always in season."

"True," Eloise said, after she drained her own. "But hunting is difficult and time consuming. This is easy, and allows us to concentrate on bigger things."

"Speaking of hunting," I said, as Eloise got up and threw her own bag into the trash. She flinched as I said it, but then she came closer and pulled her hair off her neck. I spun her around, taking her in my arms. Eloise didn't try to fight me as I breathed on her neck, my hands running suggestively over her body.

I bit into her neck, keeping my fangs shallow. Her blood seeped across my tongue like fire, and I couldn't help myself as I cupped her breasts. Eloise moaned, pressing into me as I slowly drained her. Spurned by sudden thought as I looked down her front, I plunged a hand into her pants. Eloise bucked against me, sinking my fangs a little further into her artery, then moaned long and loud to remind me of my time with Cherry and breaking the little red head in to sex.

I continued to fondle Eloise, even as she began to wriggle and buck harder. Every time she bucked against me, she caused my teeth to sink deeper into her neck, releasing more of her fiery blood across my tongue even though I didn't suck on her. Her moaning became high pitched, then with a final buck and a squeal, she climaxed all over my hand.

I pulled my fangs out after taking a few more gulps of her blood. I also had to support her as it seemed her legs had turned to jelly from my actions. When she finally stood on her own, Meredith handed her a fresh bag and she quickly drained it.

"That was intense," she breathed, looking a bit bashful as I went and washed my hands, letting the elder kindred get her bearings. "Haven't felt like that since 1873."

"Wow, you are old," Meredith said, then blushed.

"You should see the scourge sometime," I told her. "Or the prince. I know the scourge was turned back in the Civil War and the prince is older."

"Rumor is the prince fought for Napoleon," Eloise said. "It's hard to believe from his smooth talking ways, but he's supposed to be French."

"Like Michelle," I mused. "I wonder if he had to leave France like she did?"

"I think he was in Africa then," she told me. "That seems to be the consensus on where he met the sheriff and they paired up."

"Is that why he seems more like bodyguard than law enforcement?" I asked and she nodded.

"From what I've read, when that happens, the scourge is in effect the sheriff when he usually just keeps the peace in Elysium areas," she told me.

"Kindred meeting places," Meredith said, remembering one of her lessons. "They sound fun and terrible."

"I'll take you to one when I get a moment," I told her, getting a look from Eloise. "What? I know a place with the Anarchs where she'll be okay. Damsel won't let a fight start because the deputies would kill everyone to thin their ranks."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said glumly.

"If that happens, I can jump us out which is how I'll get her in," I told her.

"Well," she said sounding unsure still. "We'll see how it goes in a few days. I'd like for it to settle down some."

"Alright," I said, somewhat agreeing with her. "Well, I have a party to crash."

"Awww," Meredith moaned.

"Relax," I told her, giving her a smile. "If I'm lucky, there's no trouble and I get high praise from the prince."

"If you're not?" Eloise asked, making me frown.

"It's why I'm crashing it with enough firepower to take the beach at Normandy," I told her. "Machine guns, assault rifles, flamethrower..."

"Going up against kindred?" Eloise asked.

"And humans," I told her. "I can use my shadows to make swords when dealing with kindred. The guns are for the guards."

"I wish you luck," she said, frowning. She wasn't happy, I knew, but she probably didn't feel it was her place to tell me how to live.

"Thanks," I said stepping out the door. I walked straight down the stairs, bumping into Diamond and Cherry as they were stepping out of the room I'd done the latter's audition in. Most of Diamond's makeup had been removed, probably with a wet washcloth, and she looked somewhat normal.

"Oh, hi," Cherry said, her voice sounding small as she shrank away from me.

"Don't worry," I said, giving her a smile. "I'm not going to molest you anymore tonight."

"Oh," she said, giving me a wry chuckle. "Good. So I passed?"

"Yeah," I said, giving her a warm smile to let her know I was happy with her. It perked her up, but she still hid behind her sister. "So, ready for the peepshow when I get the club going?"

"Peepshow?" she said, sounding confused. "What's that?"

"A place where you can strip since we can't have you on the club's floor yet," I told her. "It's like a private dancing area but you're behind glass."

"Oh, because I'm nineteen," she said, her smile faltering as she remembered her youth.

"I can get you a driver's license that states your twenty one," I told her, making both sisters stand there with shocked looks on their faces, "But I'd need to know you're ready to handle the club's hefty cover."

"I can so handle it," she said, trying to force herself to be confident.

"An-Cherry," Diamond said, correcting herself. "Maybe we should talk about this?"

"I can handle a cover," Cherry told her sister. "Besides, I want to join you and what you do!"

"Good," I told her, getting an evil look from Diamond as she looked back to me.

"Not good," she countered, and I put a hand on her shoulder.

"You make the club's cover by this time next week, and I'll get you a license so you can join us on the main dance floor," I told her.

"And if she don't?" Diamond said, and I could see the edge form in her. My smile must've spoken volumes, because soon Diamond mirrored me.

"She makes the cover, she joins us as a full dancer," I said, laying down the wager. "Fail, and she's still a rookie needing a training pole."

"But how am I supposed to make the cover without a club to dance in?" she asked, and I think now only figuring out my trap.

"Same way the girls make theirs," I told her, giving her an evil wink. "You just get a private room instead of a curtain."

"Oh," she said simply, her face draining of color. "Do I get to use condoms?"

"Of course," Diamond said, giving me a look as if to challenge me.

"Sure," I told her, consenting to that. "I bet the girls have a condom or two in the rooms to use."

"Under the armrest," Diamond told me, before turning and pleading with her sister. "Sis, don't do this."

"It's done," Cherry said, extending her hand to me.

"Right," I said, taking it. "Fifteen grand in five days."

Cherry stuttered for a moment, as if only now realizing how deep she had stepped in it. "F-fine then," she said, then turned to Diamond. "Keys? I need to get a box before I start trying to make money."

"Here," Diamond said, fishing in her small purse for the key. "I'll get the room and be waiting."

"Thanks," she said, before running to their Focus and driving off.

Alone with Diamond, I saw the small blonde wrap her arms around herself. "She's never going to make that much money on her own in a week."

"I know," I told her, and Diamond whipped her head up. "But you can't help her. I need her to fail."

"I," she started to say, then leaned against the motel as she rubbed her hand over her sniffy nose.

"I know," I told her, looking down myself. "But I'm trying to find the line where she realizes what she wants isn't a good thing. Maybe if she screws a hundred fifty guys it'll help her understand that."

"Assuming she gets a hundred a pop," she told me. "Street hooking isn't that rich. Most guys won't pay over forty."

"Show's what I know," I muttered. "Are you going to hang around?"

"For a bit longer, yeah," she said, kicking at the wall with the back of her heel. "You think she'll fail to get the money?"

"Well, if she gets fifty a pop, making it three hundred guys, seven days, an average of twenty to thirty minutes a guy, maybe twenty more to reel in another, she should be sixteen guys a day short," I said, monologue-ing my math.

"So, is tomorrow planned too or do you make it up as you go along?" she snarked as she took in my math and came to the same conclusion I had.

"Both," I told her. "Layers upon layers in her audition. I aim to see her fail, if for nothing else, than for you."

"Thanks," she said, giving me a smile. She then took a breath, and looked at the street where soon her sister would be selling her body. "Well, I better get going. It won't take her long to get to the drug store and buy the condoms and get back."

"I mean it though," I told her, catching her eyes with my tinted stare. "Don't help her by helping her get money or more money from the guys. You can only look out after her safety, but if anyone wants to buy her, she has to handle it on her own."

"Alright," she said glumly, then walked away. I knew she was going to find it a hard week to get through, but she needed to understand sometimes you had to fail. I did, training to be a weapon, and took my bruises and kept on. Her sister might not be able to handle her own, but she had to learn to live her own life.

I was finding it the hardest thing I had ever done.


	52. Chapter 52 - The Giovanni

**Author's Note: Wow, a month? Ooops. My bad. In my defense, life is hectic and my focus has faded. Still, here it is, in all it's glory**

 **As far as the Giovanni go, I don't have any clan books to base how their powers work, so I'm winging it. If any Giovanni kindred out there would like to provide me with more information on the actual mechanics of their clan, feel free to add it in the comments.**

 **As always, I don't know if you like or hate it if you don't review!**

* * *

Chapter 52 – The Giovanni

October 8, 2004 = Friday

~Eliza Flores~

Stepping into my motel room, I found Yukie and Dominique sitting to the headboard watching 'Down Periscope' on a movie channel. Yukie had bought popcorn somewhere, and the bag was open and cradled on her legs. She gave me a nod as I came in, then a quizzical look as I began to undo my blouse.

"Something wrong?" she asked me, but I shook my head.

"Just changing clothes before I head to the Giovanni mansion," I told her, stripping out of my clothes on my way to the closet. I folded everything as I took it off, placing it in a basket for dirty laundry. "I have to slip in and see if they have something, and I want to wear something that'll offer some protection in a fight."

"Do you need assistance?" she asked, sitting straighter.

"No," I told her as I slipped my slacks off. "I hope to get in, and if it's not there, out before I'm noticed."

"Okay," she said, leaning back against the headboard.

I went through my available clothes, picking out a pair of leather pants and slipped them on. Next was a dark blue spandex shirt, which I was hoping would help me blend into the shadows and not stand out. After grabbing a pair of socks and my motorcycle boots, I sat on the edge of the bed and finished getting ready. I couldn't help but think that if Heather hadn't been abducted, I'd have had her make me a gown and crashed the party through the front door.

But, Heather was dead. It was a thought that haunted me even as I walked out to the car where I'd already stashed every weapon I had. Diamond gave me a nod from inside the motel's office as I slid into my car, and I noticed that her Focus was back. As I pulled out of the driveway, I also saw Cherry on the sidewalk as she tried to get her first customer.

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but think about Cherry and her sister. Cherry was just baggage, it was her sister I wanted which was why I was willing to devote any time to helping her in quest to keep her sister out of stripping. The problem was I didn't think blood-bound ghouls were the way to go.

Still, I wanted, needed, Diamond to run Four-Play. If I wasn't 'nice' to her and helped her out, I was afraid she might run off on me. So I helped her out with her sister, trying to convince her that blindly following another wasn't the best path in life. So far I'd molested her, sexually assaulted her, and now she was prostituting herself on my behalf. If she mentally survived the next five days, I had more tricks to deploy against her, though even I flinched at them.

The problem was, I hadn't intended for Diamond to interfere. Part of the aspect of selling herself was to feel man after man shoot his wad inside her. Diamond had decided to interfere, practically begging for the use of condoms. If only for her and not drive her away, I had relented, allowing their use. Cherry would still have to feel every man's cock inside her, and if she were foolish enough to allow it, on her.

As I drove on through traffic, I plotted my next move with the pair. I had no doubt that Cherry would survive her week as a whore, she was utterly devoted to her sister, but that wasn't the end game I had in mind. The end game I had in mind was putting Diamond firmly under my control where she could never leave, and I was now two-thirds of the way there. The problem was keeping her there.

"Sister's in love," I muttered, thinking it was inherently wrong in a depraved way. But, as my brain went click, I thought I had a solution. Ensnare the sister in some way to force Diamond to do my bidding. If I could do that, I'd have Diamond under my control just like a ghoul, though without the blood connection.

The only problem was she could still cause me problems if she wanted, but I'd have to make sure she understood that I could find her no matter where she wandered. Maybe if I dug up some sort of dark dirt on her she'd understand? Or maybe there was a thaumaturgical spell that would help out?

One way would send me to Gary, the other to Eloise. Or to my books of which I needed to read.

I had days, hopefully, before I needed a solid answer, though, so I let that headache go with a gentle sigh as traffic ground to a halt due to road construction. On my bike, which I'd get after getting out of the mansion, I could have split the lanes and gone straight through. Now I was stuck in traffic, so I let my sight wander back to the motel.

Cherry wasn't out front, but checking the front of the motel showed a lower level room where the lights burned bright near a familiar looking black Chevy. With a slight exertion of will, I moved into the lit room to see Cherry getting it on doggy-style with the man Diamond had turned down when I woke up. A condom was being used, and the guys hands were all over Cherry's breasts, but she was taking it like a trooper, reinforcing the idea that she would survive this particular week.

Letting my vision slip as I moved forward in traffic, I thought about Yukie and her unborn child. I was sure the process used to create a revenant in her would work on Diamond, but they may not share any common characteristics unless I intermarried their children. It was, I continued to think it over, maybe a good thing. Different characteristics meant different purposes, and if the blood followed the carrier's purpose, Yukie's child would likely be a warrior/hunter and Diamond's would probably be entertainers.

Not the worst ideas, I thought as I finally left the interstate and headed into the hills. In later years I'd have a class of protectors and money makers to tend to my unlife and its needs. The mansion I wanted to build would need caretakers and groundskeepers, and those would be privy to all sorts of my personal problems. Yukie could teach whatever form of martial arts she used as a hunter, and I could farm their training out to various dojos for increased performance and safety. If I were lucky, my revenants would manifest abilities like celerity and potence which they could use in combat against invaders.

It'd have to be with swords and such, I thought as I got closer to the mansion if the glow were any indication, because gunshots would attract attention. I might get away with it in the hills because the echo would bounce around and be hard to pinpoint and the Giovanni's status would keep cops away unless bodies turned up. I was sure that would never happen, but my guns were only for when I got caught and needed backup.

I slowed down as I passed the Giovanni's mansion, finding the driveway lined with varying cars like limo's and luxury cars along with taxis dropping off well dressed passengers. I was sure I would be spotted if I stayed, especially considering my planned firepower. I instead parked at an access-way just down the street and opened the trunk and slipped my messenger bag over my head to leave it on my right side. I then pulled out the long belt of ammo I had purchased and wrapped it over my left shoulder, then wrapped the other one over my right, keeping both belts tight around me so they wouldn't flop and make noise.

With SAW in both hands, tucked in tight to my elbow like in the Rambo movies, I moved closer to the fence. There was a line of thick column-like trees forming a twenty foot high privacy screen behind the fence, so I used my potence to scale the fence and then ducked under the branches to see into the yard.

There wasn't but a few people milling around, most of them seemed to be waiting on someone, a date perhaps, when a couple getting out of a taxi caught my eye. The woman was smashed, needing her male beau to stand upright. To me though, that didn't matter, because I wouldn't be affected by the large amounts of alcohol in her system.

The question was, how far could my domination reach? Staring hard at the guy, I waited for his wandering eyes to drift my way before I said, "come." The man began walking towards me, bringing his smashed friend along. From his glassy eyed state I saw when he got closer, I knew I had him under my influence. When he was close enough to have a conversation with me, I started to give him orders.

"When the woman with you tells you the word 'walk' in a minute, you'll return with her to the front door and act like nothing strange has ever happened here," I told him. He gave me a nod, then I looked at her, and possessed her. Once I was in her body, my own slumped into the trees, and was hidden from sight.

I took in my new attire and lack of a ring, then looked at the man holding my elbow. He had a pair of invitations in his jacket pocket, and I pulled them out. They were adressed to Victor Giovanni and Maria Rosselini, so I filed my new name away. The problem was, wife or lover? Not every woman took their husbands name when they married.

Still…

"Walk," I said, setting in motion the trigger to get this show on the road. It did no good to sit here and brood over my status, I just needed inside.

Like a machine, Victor led me by my elbow back to the mansion, giving greetings to those he passed, even calling some by name. Some responded, but no one talked to me. I was getting the feeling I was a recent addition to Victor's life. When we approached the door, I handed Victor our invitations, who promptly handed them off to the ill-fitting suited man, likely some of the muscle the Giovanni kept around.

"Have a pleasant evening," he said with no warmth at all. He did open the door for us, and we stepped into inside.

The Giovanni had gone all out with servers everywhere carrying silver trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne in fine crystal. We passed a small dining hall where a number of people sat and chatted, with large buffets of various foods against the walls. On the other side a small bar was set up, but the moment my eyes fell on it, Victor squeezed my arm slightly.

"Not right now," he hissed in my ear as he pulled me down the hallway. I just nodded, knowing he only saw his girlfriend looking to get even more smashed. Down the hall, we came to some doors marked bathroom, probably for those who weren't regulars to the house or to prevent any embarrassing conversations.

"Excuse me, Victor," I said, looking at the door to the bathroom.

"Take your time," he said, releasing my arm. "At least in there you can't embarrass me."

I give him a wan smile as I went inside. I didn't need to do anything, and since I wasn't carrying a purse, didn't have anything to touch up any makeup that I couldn't see anyway. I waited several minutes before gingerly opening the door to check for Victor, then slipped out into the crowd.

At first I stuck along the edge of the wall, but at every access up or down, or deeper into the mansion was blocked by suited thugs. They were easy to spot, they all wore scowls and had bulges under their armpits indicating a gun in a holster. I didn't acknowledge them in any way, just walked on by. Problem was, I was hemmed in. There wasn't any way past the guards without creating some sort of ruckus, and I didn't want to bring the Giovanni kindred down on me before I had the sarcophagus confirmed.

"Hi, I'm Adam," a man said as he came to stand beside me. "Adam Dunsirn. I don't think we've met. You are?"

"Maria Rosselini," I told him with a smile.

"Maria, pleasure to meet you," he said warmly, offering his hand. I shook it, and he moved a half-step closer as a group moved past us. "What line of work are you in?"

"Real estate," I told him, thinking it was about the only thing I _was_ doing at the moment. "I'm about to close on a two hundred fifty acre golf course in Gardena for fifty million right now."

"Nice," he said, giving me another smile. He didn't fool me, he was after something, but it wasn't me personally, so I let him bait his hook. "Myself, I'm an investment banker...great business, lot of potential. For example, I got the inside track on this company right now, and let me tell you, when this company goes public, everyone's going to wish they had a piece of it."

Ah, so that's what he was after. Money. Well, I had money, and investing it was something I was actually looking forward to doing.

"Tell me more," I said, inching closer so I could better hear him. Maria apparently had problem hearing around lots of background noise.

"Well, it's a biotech firm," he said, and I had the feeling I was getting played by the vagueness. "You know they're working on growing replacement organs, really fascinating technology. In a couple of years, I'd bet everyone will be going to them for parts. I figure an investment of fifty thousand dollars could be easily tripled in five years."

Yeah, the long con. Make a target wait so long for their return that you might actually make their return, if any, back before they get suspicious. Still, he couldn't be all con, could he? I did need an investment banker like him, but did I need someone who was really a con man?

"You have a lot of experience in this?" I asked him, acting on my suspicions. If I were here in person, I might use my newfound auspex abilities to read his mind, but for now I was kind of stuck. "How much did your last investments return?"

"You take risks in this game," he said, trying to downplay his situation. "Sometimes you make a million, sometimes you lose a million. The economy changes on a whim."

I nodded my head, but it didn't tell me much. What it did tell me was that he was likely broke, and he needed money. I needed my kindred powers.

"You haven't been very successful lately, have you?" I asked him, and he deflated.

"No, damn company I was selling turned out to be a long con," he groused. "I managed to get my principals their money, but it's broke me. If I don't get some money soon, people will notice. Most people here, they've got cash they don't know what to do with!"

"So what you need is an investor worth millions?" I asked him, smiling.

"How about you?" he asked, getting his smile back as he hit on an idea. "Surely you have some extra capital?"

"Not me, exactly," I told him, my smile widening. "I'm the intermediary for a much richer person who has millions extra and nothing to really do with it. If you want, I can set you up a little something in a few days. Just might be worth your time."

"I'll do that," he said, and then he scanned the crowd. "In fact, if you can help me with something, I think we can all benefit."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked him, curious to what he had in mind. If it led deeper into the mansion, I might just have to skip adding an investment banker to my herd and trade it in for a ticket to the sarcophagus.

"This party, do you know the reason for it?" he asked, and I shook my head.

"Tonight, Uncle Bruno will select the best and brightest of our generation a blessing, the Kiss," he said, and I cocked my head. He wasn't talking something Kindred was he?

"Those that have the Kiss go on to the inner circle of the family, the true power of the Giovanni," he told me and I nodded my head absently, but I realized coming in as a kindred might have raised a few red flags. Scanning the crowd quickly, I recognized a few pale faces as being kindred, and I wondered how I missed it on my way in.

"If you were to help me, by say, drawing some attention away from my financial shortcomings, I'd be guaranteed the Kiss. There's only two others with any real chance at beating me, one is just because they're Giovanni," he said, saying the last word with a snarl.

"Who are we talking about," I asked and he pointed to a a dark haired man in the corner, alone.

"That's Christopher Giovanni," he said, and I nodded for him to continue. "His main claim is that he's a Giovanni and he's a guy, unlike Mira. He know's a lot of famous people, can usually get things done, but so can Mira, plus you can sleep with her.

"Mira Giovanni, over there," he said, pointing to a brown haired woman in a dark red dress, "is my only other concern. She's great with politicians, and is on a lot of their mailing card lists, if you know what I mean."

I shrugged, not wanting to judge her for the life she led because of her family. "If you can get me a lock on the Kiss, I can bring you along later and show you how to make real money."

"I'll see what I can do," I told him, figuring the Kiss was likely Giovanni slang for the embrace. Maybe like most Italians, they had rituals for this and the Kiss was something of a formality?

Too many questions, I reminded myself. So I give Adam a smile. "If you don't hear back out of me, there's a motel called the Pleasure Inn in Santa Monica run by a man named Jimmie Briscoe. He runs it for a woman named Elisa Flores. She's the millionaire in need of your services."

"I'll look her up," he said smiling as I ghosted away with a group of passing party goers.

Adam was easily found, as he was still leaned against the wall. He wore a blank look on his face, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He didn't even notice me as I got closer, so I decided to introduce myself.

"I'm Maria Rosselini," I told him, extending my hand.

"Another person who isn't a Giovanni," he groused silently.

"Not a Giovanni?" I asked, trying to clarify his statement.1

"Call me paranoid, but how do I know I can trust you?" he said darkly.

"Color me tabloid, because I can paste it all over this party that you don't feel you're a Giovanni," I told him. "Especially if you feel the need start conversations off disparaging the family friends."

"Really?" he said drawled. I decided to play my one card, and stepped closer.

"If I told you Adam Dunsirn's big secret, would you tell me yours?" I asked him, wanting to break Adam off from his family.

"Why not," he said sadly. "At least we can go down together."

"Adam's broke," I said, knowing that if it got out that Adam had made some bad decisions, no one would trust him. I would though, because I'd seen many millionaires lose their fortunes at the club on once tried and true investments. Problem was, the stock market was a fickle mistress since the towers fell.

"Really?" he said, scratching at his chin. "Adam always seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders. Might just as well be dead as broke in this family. To think I almost let him handle my investments."

Chris looked thoughtful, then he huffed. "Well, I found out a few months ago my mother had an affair before I was born. Turns out my father isn't a Giovanni at all. My real father's this writer named Michael Avellone. If people found out, I'd never be able to rise up in this family. At least this way I can take that prick Adam with me."

"A pleasure," I said walking off with a group of passersby. I angled off from that group not far away, getting lost in the crowd. I ended up next to a piano, and spun around trying to get my bearings. I groaned when I realized I somehow ended up in the middle of the room, having lost track of Mira. I then spotted her, not far away. Like Chris, she was currently alone, sipping what I thought was water. I snagged a glass of champagne, downing a large gulp to make it look like I hadn't just grabbed it before walking closer.

She noticed me walking up, but scoffed. I was wondering if I should take offense when she downed her glass, handing it off to a passing waiter, then leaned up against a marble pillar. She was a looker, perfectly proportioned and stunningly beautiful in a way that no woman could do without a team of cosmeticians.

"Might as well be a costume party," she said under her breath as she took me in. "Everyone smiling, pretending this isn't a pageant put on by Uncle Bruno. Fine, but this is a contest and I came to win."

"What are you talking about?" I asked her, curious about her attitude.

"If you don't even know about the contest, then you don't have to worry about winning it," she told me sourly.

"I'm Maria," I said, introducing myself, or at least my host's body.

"Hmm," she said, smiling. "Mira. Mira Giovanni."

"You look stunning tonight," I said complementing her. "So what did you mean when you called this a contest?"

"They gather us up here to decide just who the best and the brightest of this generation is," she explained for me, eyeing Christopher with pure hatred. "The luck few are given the real power in this family. But some of us need to win more than others.

"Of forget it," she said as she caught my intense look. "You wouldn't understand."

I understood more than she knew. But I didn't want to tell her that.

"I'm interested, actually," I told her. "I know a lot of the secrets of this family."

"Secrets," she said, giving me a smile. "Really?"

"Yes," I said, sipping my champagne.

"Do you have anything on Chris or Adam?"

"Adam, Chris _and_ Uncle Bruno," I said, and her eyes shot up.

"You know, don't you?" she said, and I nodded my head.

"I'd give anything to get into the inner circle of this family," she said, gripping her glass tightly. "I've made some bad judgements, a terminal one, but I've lobbied hard for this family's interests."

"What bad judgements?" I asked her, but she seemed uneasy. "Even the best of us make mistakes. It's obviously set you on this path that you believe the family's inner circle is the only way forward."

"They're not the only path?" she said, eyes filled with hope as she took me in. "You know of another way?"

"I do," I told her, thinking that maybe if she had something to truly offer, I might take her under my wing. "She's like Uncle Bruno, but she's not in the family's inner circle. She walks her own path."

"Would she be willing to help me?" she asked, and I shrugged. "I'm HIV positive."

"It all depends," I said, and she gave me a sour look. "If I tell you what I know about Adam and Christopher, can you help me out?"

"What do you need?" she said, and I looked around.

"I need to find something the family is keeping secret. Something large, about the size of a buffet table and very heavy," I told her. "You do that, and I'll tell you what I know about them and put in a good word with you with my 'friend.'"

"Follow me," she said, leading me through the party guests to a large set of double doors guarded by a thug with a gun. He looked at Mira for only a second, before reaching behind him and opening the door, giving me a salacious grin and chuckle as we passed through into an empty hallway. Mira turned and walked deeper into the hallway, then opened another set of double doors. Inside was an office befitting a Fortune 500 exec for size, and the walls were lined with bookshelves.

"Wait here," Mira told me, then walked across the room. She walked up to a large plaque with a sword on it, then pulled out on the sword. It gave, and with a groan, one of the book cases opened to reveal a passage.

"It leads to the private areas that Uncle Bruno hides from almost everyone," she told me after walking back over. "I only know about it because I used to slip down here to read and meet his 'friends.' There's also a plethora of hidden passages in this house, but I don't have time to show you all of them."

"Thank you," I told her.

"Now, about those secrets," she prodded, and I nodded my head.

"Adam is broke," I told her, and her mouth fell open.

"Adam? Broke?" she said, not wanting to believing it until I nodded my head. "A few years ago they did an article on him in Forbes. Money's practicaly more important than God to this family. I'll make sure Uncle Bruno somehow overhears this."

"Also, Christopher isn't a real Giovanni," I told her. "His mother had an affair with a writer named Michael Avellone."

"Aunt Cecilia had an affair?" she said, mouth agape. Apparently Aunt Cecilia wasn't know for being loose. "If Chris isn't really a Giovanni, it won't sit well at all with Bruno. All I have to do is set the rumor mills in motion and watch their careers tank. Now about your friend?"

"You'll find her at the Pleasure Inn in Santa Monica," I told her. "Her name is Elisa Flores, and she owns the place. She'll know you're coming, so don't worry about that, and don't be surprised at her current meager existence. She just lost her mansion in Malibu to an arsonist," I told her, remembering hearing the news report on the radio about my former mansion. It was all they had to run on, but they thought it was unoccupied since no bodies were found.

"She has money?" Mira asked, and I nodded my head.

"Half a billion," I said, and Mira nodded slowly, a smile on her face.

"Thanks," she said, heading for the door. "Should I look you up if I win?"

"No thanks," I told her, giving her a smile. "I'm well taken care of."

Mira just gave me a smile then slipped out the door, and I smiled at the simplicity of it all. I give her a few minutes to get clear, then followed the route back to the party, getting another salacious grin as I passed the guard. I found Adam, then walked up to him.

"Well?" he said expectantly as I smiled. "Hear anything...interesting?"

"Christopher isn't a real Giovanni," I told him, and his smile grew even wider.

"That's...great news!" he almost shouted. "And here I was worrying he'd get picked just because of his name. Things are looking better."

"Mira is also HIV positive," I told him and his jaw nearly dropped. "She needs to get chosen to save her life."

"Mira is…?" he stammered. "I used to have a crush on Mira. It's a shame, but business is business. Thanks for that."

"You're welcome," I said, giving him a smile as I turned away.

I walked quickly back to the bathrooms, going inside and placing Maria in a stall. Once I had her settled in, I willed myself back to my body, waking up in the bushes. I stood up, and hefted the SAW and shadow-stepped back to Bruno's office, then I walked to the open bookcase and went down the spiral stairs. I wondered how they would have gotten the sarcophagus down here, but when I came out in a large medical theater, my question was easily answered by the sight of a cage-style cargo elevator on the far wall. It was easily large enough to handle the sarcophagus, and seemed to go both up and down.

I walked over to the elevator, finding it's main panel required a key to operate. I didn't see another way down, but knowing the Giovanni as I was beginning to, they loved their secret entrances. I began searching the wall for a switch, but the austere room lacked anything resembling a switch. Arriving back at the elevator, I could only sigh at not finding a switch when my eyes fell on a set of books.

"Could they be that old fashioned?" I wondered, pulling at the old tomes. One by one, I pulled each one out, but none of them was a secret switch. As I held the last one, I fingered the old leather binding and read 'Voce del Morte' off the spine. The words inside were all in Italian script, completely indecipherable to me, but the words voce and morte did hold some meaning.

"Voice of Death," I translated vaguely, growing thoughtful. Gary had said they had skeletons literally in their closet. Could they be necromancers and this tome telling them how to conduct their rituals?

Since the only way to find out was to read it, I took and stashed it in my messenger bag along with my guns. Sighing, I shifted to my shadow form, but the SAW didn't shift with me. It clattered to the floor, and I could only give myself a mental shake at the weapon being left behind.

Dropping down the shaft, I soon came out in what had to be a crypt. It was lined with small burial spaces filled with corpses for several football fields. A large gathering of kindred and ghouls was also being held, and I was able to see and hear them as I traveled overhead in the dark.

They had several people tied to stakes, their mouths sewn shut. Two were already dead, what looked like their ghost floating in front of their corpses. A third, a dark haired man, was having hysterics as he fought to get free. A large Giovanni kindred in a suit approached him, then plunged his hand into his chest. The man went rigid, then I watched as his soul was ripped from his body. Only when his soul was free of his body did it slacken in death. I looked at him from where I was positioned at the head of the elevator, and the wraith stared at me.

"Three more souls to add to our collection and three closer to ripping down the Shroud," the kindred said, as the bodies were taken away and the souls faded from sight. Everyone locked their eyes on the speaker, and I began moving across the roof to the rear, traveling at a good walk.

""I appreciate everyone's attendance here this night," he said as he continued with his speech. Surprisingly, there were great acoustics here, and I could hear his speech even as I got further and further away. "It has been several years since I saw some of you. In that brief period of time several events have seen this family fall from the good graces of the head of the family back in Italy. The American Giovanni have been through hard times, this is true! The fall of the stock market, poor investments in several once tried and true industries. The loss of many old and dear friends in Washington who served our best interests. But I promise you, that after tonight these unfortunate mishaps will all be forgiven!

"The Ankaran Sarcophagus is ours," he continued, "You well may have heard about it's theft on the news. The truth of the matter is it was taken on my orders, why? It bears a great resemblance to an artifact said to contain the spirits of an entire kingdom wiped out during the time of the pharaohs. As I speak the most accomplished of our family are preparing to harvest this bounty of souls. Bringing the Giovanni family one step closer to the endless night we have toiled to bring about all these centuries! Once again, the American Giovanni are poised to make a grand return to a position of esteem. And to celebrate this momentous occasion, I have decided to embrace two of you, and to allow you to choose one person each at this party to bestow the proxy Kiss upon. When the others return, we shall inform Italy about our accomplishments and commence with the embrace. Let this night be the beginning of a prosperous new century! And let us not forget to thank God for this opportunity he's provided to regain face with our honored elders!"

"Amen!" they all chorused together.

I just chuckled softly to myself as I continued on. His speech told me a lot, mainly that the Kiss wasn't the embrace; it was being turned into a ghoul. Likely the process wouldn't save Mira, but it would probably extend her life. Turning her would extend it indefinitely, something I would likely use to put her under my thumb.

At the rear of the crypt, when I heard the amen, I turned back into my human form. I was faced with another set of stairs down. Sighing I turned back to see a pair of ghouls walking up a set of stairs at the opposite end. Thoughts of my SAW laying on the theater floor sparked through me, and I stepped back to snatch it off the floor. I then stepped back to the end of the crypt, with no one having ever seen me, and headed deeper into the crypt.

The prince's prize was down here, and it was time I found it.


	53. Chapter 53 – The Ankaran Sarcophagus

Chapter 53 – The Ankaran Sarcophagus

October 8, 2004 = Friday

~Eliza Flores~

SAW in hand, I passed the hard rock crypt and descended down the stairs into a medieval dungeon. At least it looked as much like a medieval dungeon as brick and mortar would allow with its cathedral style roof. Three pointed sconces using upside-down skulls for a shade lined the wall, and all of them burned with some kind of soft light that was steady, so I assumed it was electric. Murals made of multiple skulls lined the walls, which gave it a creepy vibe. All in all, I did not want to be down here.

The pathway ended at a T-junction, and the floor on both sides ended in open pits. I checked the pits, finding people milling around down inside them.

"Hey!" I called out to them. When they didn't answer, I pushed my sight into the shadows, and got a closer look at them. When I saw their lips had been sewn shut, I pulled back my sight with a sigh.

They were Giovanni castoffs, the remains of what happened when they ripped a soul from its body. I had to assume they were hostile, ghouls of a different nature probably. If that were the case, Giovanni ghouls had to have a way past them. Looking at the sides of hole, and the grates hanging there, I sized it all up. They were heavy enough to walk across, I just had to figure out how the Giovanni raised them.

Looking at the sconces, I thought back to how Mira pulled on the sword display to open a secret passage, and all the wall sconces done here. Pulling on the closest one, I was shocked to find it pulled easily. The grates in the floor rose with a silent whir, then locked in place with a clank.

I stepped out on them, finding they were solid, and quickly walked across to the other side. The walking dead below me didn't follow or track me, so I quickly followed the way to a door. There was nothing special about it, except it was thick and made from planks of wood. There wasn't any handle, and no nearby sconces.

The door seemed solid, and I pushed on it to test its strength. The middle gave, and pushing harder, found there were hidden hinges that allowed the door to bend in. I passed through, finding the door was rigged to close immediately, keeping any walking dead from escaping.

I passed through several sets of similar doors, these not holding me up as I already knew the trick. I followed the passage for a bit, then hit a corner where I found three of the walkers milling around with a door just past them.

They didn't seem to notice me, so I kept my distance as I got closer. I was no more than three steps away when one spun and swung on me with a backhanded swipe. I raised the SAW and caught it, but I was still knocked back against the wall. Problem was, I was now cornered.

The dead guy swung on me again, and I used my celerity to dodge that blow, then pulled on the shadows to make a katana. I slashed the arm, cutting it clean off. Blood spurted out of the arm as the dead turned to face me, and I stabbed him in the chest.

This time he fell, collapsing to be truly dead. The other two started for more, and I was torn between firing my SAW and fighting hand to hand. I made my decision in a flash, leaning the SAW against the wall before I waded into the other two. They fell easily, lacking any finesse in combat and I picked my rifle up and continued on.

Once through the door, I found myself turned back to the center, with a similar doorway on my right. I opened that door, finding a similar hallway to the one I had come done, sans the walkers. With a huff, I turned back to the hallway I was now in and started going clockwise around the interior wall checking doors.

Each room held two or three more of the dead, which prompted me to clear the room to inspect it. Each room was small, lit by a few sconces, but contained no access. I checked the sconces for secret rooms, but found none.

It was only when I was in the room furthest from the entrance that I found a door, metal this time with engraved patterns on it. I sat my SAW to the side and cleared them out, finding they were more of a nuisance than a threat.

Picking up my gun, I went through the door, down a small section of stairs to put me one more level down. Going over the layers in my mind, I could empty the SAW and not be heard even by the Giovanni in the crypt.

Turning one more time, I found myself standing on a ledge over a circular depression. It looked like one of those ritualistic things you'd see in a movie, and there, in the bottom on the far side on a raised dais, sat the Ankaran Sarcophagus.

Two men stood facing it, one carrying a pair of katanas on his bare back. The other didn't seem to have any swords, but some kind of knife setup hanging from his sides. They both seemed too interested in the sarcophagus to notice me, so I decided to announce myself.

"By order of the Prince of Los Angeles, I claim the Ankaran Sarcophagus!" I yelled to them.

The pair turned to face me, and I was surprised to see that they were Asian. I had figured them to be Giovanni kindred.

"Kindred!" one yelled back up at me. "Your presence here violates the agreement between our leaders! Leave now or face the consequences of your actions!"

"Agreement!" I yelled back, readying my rifle. "There's barely even a truce!"

"There's an alliance between your leader, Lacroix, and Mistress Ming-Xiao!" he yelled back. The other one was slipping his hands into the knife collection, and I figured I'd take him out first. "You violate that agreement! If you do not leave, we are not responsible for your death!"

"MY death?" I asked them. "I can deal with a pair of Kue-Jin rejects! I've raided the Sabbat headquarters twice and survived! You two can leave now or be sent for Trial!"

"We'll give you one more chance to leave this place and keep your life!" he yelled back. "You will go?"

"I'm just disappointed that there's only two of you to kill!" I yelled back, activating my celerity and potence. I brought the SAW up to my shoulder just as the knife wielding Kue-Jin brought his hands up to show that they were a claw set. I lined up, and began emptying the SAW into his chest. The claw wielding Kue-Jin was caught off-guard as my bullets began ripping his chest apart, the tracers showing me a laser-like path my bullets were taking into him. I shifted my aim to crawl up his spine, disintegrating him before he even had the chance to move.

Movement to my left caught my eye, and I barely got my rifle up as the sword wielding Kue-Jin swung his sword down to cut me from neck to hip. I absorbed the impact with the rifle, but his other hand also held a sword and he tried to stab me with it. With no other choice, I fell back off the ledge, dropping the rifle to absorb the impact as best I could.

The surviving Kue-Jin jumped down to follow, and pushing my celerity back into being, scrambled to my feet with both a katana and a tantō, a Japanese short sword that resembled a knife, in my hands. I caught his next attack with the tantō, parrying his off hand with my katana.

The Asian kindred was surprised with my counterattack, and we circled each other. I slipped my messenger bag off my shoulder as I waited, freeing myself in case I needed to roll. He cocked a grin, then holding his swords close to his chest, vanished in a teleporter like light show. I spun to catch his attack in case he tried to knife me in the back, but he was back up on the ledge.

We locked eyes for a moment, before an ethereal white flame coated his hands and he threw it at me. I dodged to the side, turning back to see the white flames turn into very real flames. Yellow flooded my vision as the flames washed over me, but somehow I kept from frenzying.

I looked up in time to see him jump from the ledge, and soar high into the air. I danced back half a step, managed three attacks as he settled onto his feet, and was then stuck deflecting his attacks. He was too good for me to take on, and I had to keep giving ground to keep him from landing one on me.

When I hit the wall, it seemed to infuriate him, as it limited his attacks. I still had to give ground though, soon finding a depression which turned out to be a staircase. That infuriated him even more, as our swords needed room to swing, and stabbing was so easily parried.

With a snarl, he started his teleportation process, but since I was prepared this time, and could see where he was already starting to appear, I used my own shadowstep to appear right next to him, then cloaked myself in shadows so he wouldn't see me.

He didn't even notice my own disappearance as he began winding up his fireballs. Dropping my tantō back into shadows, I brought my katana down just as he outstretched his hands to throw. The shock on his face as my shadow-blade flashed through his hands told me he hadn't expected it, and I was rewarded with both his hands falling from his arms.

He fell to his knees, looking at his ruined limbs, and I brought my katana up again. "Say hello to my sire," I mocked him, then brought my sword down on him, cutting clean through his muscled neck. The moment my sword was through, the Kue-Jin fell to ash, leaving nothing but his swords and heavy leather belt behind. I grabbed the belt, then jumped down and picked up the claws that his brother had, along with my messenger bag and rifle and placed them on the sarcophagus.

I ran my hand over the antique stone, finding it exactly as it was aboard the _Elizabeth Dane_. I pulled out my phone, but being this far down in a hole under stone, brick, a mansion and all the metal it took to keep it from falling in on itself, I had no signal.

Instead I took a picture of it, then I shadow-stepped to the Scourge's office, where I found not only the scourge, but the prince as well. The prince was leaned over the scourge's desk and seemed to be reeming him out.

"...where you should be," the prince was saying as I stepped in. He noticed me, where I had seemed to come in and his face was awash in anger. "As for you..."

"I found it, sir," I told him, not wanting to cut him off but figuring it was for the best. "I found the Ankaran Sarcophagus."

"Is it here?" he said eagerly as I showed him the picture of the prize on my phone.

"It's in the bottom most level of the Giovanni mansion," I told him. "There's too many Giovanni there for me to handle alone, but I have confirmed the sarcophagus is there."

"Good, good," he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'll have Sheriff Kondo fly out there immediately and we'll send as many deputies to back you up and assist as we can."

"Thank you, sir," I said, bowing my head in front of him. "I'll return there now to make sure no one tries to move or harm it."

"Thank you, Miss Flores," he said, then I stepped back to the sarcophagus.

I packed everything away, awaiting the sheriff and the deputies. It was a good fifteen minutes of waiting, while I leaned against the sarcophagus. When someone did appear, it was the man I had seen rip a soul out. I was about to pull a sword and threaten him when the brute of a sheriff came in behind him. Not a word was said between the two, but I had the feeling that words had already been said.

More men and women began filing past them, among them Jean. They had equipment they were carrying and began to set it up, while the Sheriff stood watch. They hefted the sarcophagus, carrying it out past a very upset Giovanni kindred. I marched with the deputies, as silent as they were, hoping and praying that the Giovanni didn't start something.

When we got back up to the crypt, the Giovanni were still there, and I had a momentary feeling that they would start something, but one look to me, then past me to the sheriff, and they all hung their heads. The two ghouls who had went to choose for the Kiss gave me vehemently violent stares, but since they were still ghouls I figured they hadn't completed whatever ritual they had started.

I also didn't see Chris, Adam or Mira as I went through the crowd. A part of me smiled at that, figuring my claim of the prize had guaranteed Adam and Mira would come to me. A part me of me still felt sad, but I squashed that fast. I didn't give Mira her disease, and I didn't make Adam go broke. They were free to avail themselves of other opportunities, and I couldn't help but smile at the fact that though there were more opportunities for an embrace in the night, I was the only one they knew of.

Outside the mansion, I broke off from the group to get my car, running the entire way to where I had parked. I quickly stashed everything in the trunk, then climbed in. The sarcophagus was just being loaded when I got back, and the deputies were piling into various vehicles. The sheriff himself just stood watching, and once the truck carrying the sarcophagus started moving, he turned into a large bat and took the skies.

That move shocked me, watching him become a large bat, but I remembered what Jean had said about Gangrel being able to transform. It was almost as handy as my shadow-step, but I had to figure that the mist and wolf forms I had seen Beckett use were more practical as they kept the person from being harmed or gave them an excellent way of fighting back.

Still, I had a car to drive, so I followed the procession in my car back to the tower, then on foot as the sarcophagus was wheeled directly to the prince's office. Beckett was waiting on it, and he began pouring over it as soon as it was set on the floor. The sheriff was behind the prince's desk, standing guard over the man who wore a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin.

"My wunderkind returns," he said proudly as he stood from his desk. "In my entire court, I knew there was only one who could have succeeded in this task. Finally, the Ankaran Sarcophagus is ours!"

I gave a respectful bow to him as he left his desk. I knew this was the moment. He was happy, which meant I was about to get my due.

"I'm happy to be of service to the court," I said, my head still bowed. When I lifted it, the prince was standing right in front of me. "Of course, I was offered a high bounty for it."

"A bounty I'm happy to pay," he said, smiling. "As prince, I grant you the right to make a childe of your choosing. Choose well," he said, his face growing serious for a moment. "For the sins of the childe are the sins of the sire as well. I'd hate to have to send you to your own trial for something your childe has done."

"I will choose well, sir," I said, again bowing my head.

"Come, I've granted Beckett's request to study and document all the markings on the sarcophagus," he said as he turned me to the sarcophagus. "Let's go take a look inside, and see what the commotion around the city has really been about."

"Before we do that, sir," I said, stopping him with my words and body language. "I need an answer to a question that might undermine your alliances. Are we in an alliance with the Kue-Jin? I killed two of their agents to get the sarcophagus for you."

"What? Preposterous!" he said, a wash of shock coating his face. "No kindred would trust them, nor would they trust us. Did the Anarchs tell you that? It sounds like you've been taken for a fool."

"The agents themselves did, before I killed them," I confessed.

"And you believed them?" he asked me. "They've been trying to take over Los Angeles for years. It's a ruse, a falsehood spread to undermine my rule and turn kindred against each other and thin our ranks. They are duplicitous, evil creatures. Did they not try to kill you?"

"They did," I said, giving him an evil smirk to know I had.

"Insurance," he said, smiling back. "They lied to you in case you lived through the encounter. They hoped to create dissention rumors. It's a trick older than even myself."

"Thank you for that, sir," I said, sighing in relief. "I just wanted to make sure your alliances were not put in jeopardy by my actions, and if I had, allow you time to make reperations as needed or mend fences before problems arose."

"I appreciate your concern," he said as he led me to the sarcophagus. "I just wish more were like you. So many would rather undermine me than help me. Let's see now what your labors have accomplished."

"Yes, sir," I said, keeping step with him. When we stepped next to the sarcophagus, Beckett gave us both a nod.

"What have you assessed so far?" the prince asked him.

"Unfortunately for the heralds of doom, it appears we won't be opening Pandora's Box," he said, drawing the words out as if he were letting us down gently. "The markings, as I far as I can tell, are of Assyrian origin. An extraordinary piece, but nothing earth-shattering."

"I see," the prince said, rubbing at his jaw. Was it anticipation, or relief? "Then there's no reason why we shouldn't open it."

At that the prince put his hands on the lid and tried to push it over, but it held fast. He braced himself and I joined him, lending my potence ability, but all we managed to do was push the sarcophagus itself closer to Beckett.

"Won't budge," the prince said in a whisper. "Beckett, do you see any mechanism for the lid?"

Beckett gave him a blank stare, then drawled, "I haven't as of yet had a chance to pore over it with my fine tooth comb. I think I have one in my bag."

It took me a minute to realize he was pranking the prince, who didn't seem to notice as he struggled more with the lid in trying to raise it by prying it up with his fingertips. "Why won't it...Why won't it open Beckett?" he spat, as his patience ran out and he turned on me. "And you! I thought you said it looked as if it had been opened on the Dane!"

"It had," I said, pointing to a spot where blood spatter still lurked in a niche. "There's the blood from one of the handprints."

"I want it open!" he roared at me, finger in my face. "You! You and Beckett figure out a way to open it. I need to know what's inside. I have other matters to attend to. Come get me when a solution has been found."

He stomped off back to his desk after that, leaving me alone with Beckett. I gave him a half shrug of 'oh well' behind the prince's back, but was just glad he hadn't rescinded my right to make a childe.

"Ah, the depths to which I'll plunge to prove other's wrong," he said mockingly in his quiet way. "The young ones get so temperamental. Fortunately for...Sebastian, is it?" he said, having to think for a minute as if he didn't remember the prince's name, "I'd already made up my mind to open the sarcophagus, if only to show the city that Gehenna, contrary to popular belief, has not begun."

"What do you think's inside?" I asked, looking at the markings.

"Put you ear to it," he said, and I looked at him in wonder ti see if he was joking. "I'll shake it and you tell me what you think's inside."

I gave him a chuckle. "Alright, stupid question," I admitted. "How do we open it? I'm not familiar with the opening of ancient sarcophagi."

"At least you got the plural form right," he said with a smile. "Fortunately for us I know of someone who has distinguished himself in this field."

"Indiana Jones?" I said, thinking he probably knew someone similar. Hell, he almost fit that role himself.

"Doctor Anders Johansen, a professor of archaeology from Norway," he said, choosing to ignore my jab at archaeology. "He was the one responsible for finding the sarcophagus, and as far as I know, the only authority on its origin and design."

"Where can I find him?" I asked, wondering if he was even in country. Likely he was, or hard been, and wouldn't be hard to find.

"Until yesterday, he could've been found in his suite at the Empire Hotel here in downtown," he told me. I had a sinking feeling he had done left town, but Beckett wasn't done yet. "But when I stopped by earlier this evening, all I found was spilt coffee on a morning paper. Appear's he's been abducted."

"Tell me he left notes or a diagram for me to retrieve or something," I moaned. If he disappeared in this town, I doubted even the Nosferatu could find him.

"I did find a pair of bikini swimwear and a book detailing the origins of various Turkish dialects," he offered, and I shook my head. Leave it to Beckett to find humor in this.

"That all?" I asked, wondering if he was leaving something out.

"I detected the smell of murrh incense, which is usually burned in monastaries," he said, taking a sniff to draw attention to his nose. "Also, I found beach sand in part of a muddy footprint. Putting two and two together, I located a monastary northwest of Malibu, where I believe hunters are holding Johansen captive.

"Thanks detective," I said, bowing my head. "You've taken several nights work off my hands."

"Actually, there were two hunters on the roof of the building opposite the hotel who were positively delighted to tell me everything they knew, provided I stopped dangling them head first over the side," he said, telling me the truth.

"What would hunters want with an archaeologist?" I asked Beckett. It didn't seem right to me for them to take an innocent without cause.

"They abducted Doctor Johansen for his own protection," he told me, probably from information gleaned from his torment of the two aforementioned hunters. "Or at least, that's how they've justified it to me. He's being held by the Society of Leopold and used, quite ingeniously, as bait for Prince Lacroix's minions."

"Or me," I said, and Beckett nodded. "Who are the Society of Leopold?"

"Sebastion mentioned you ran into their hunters at a primogen's home some time ago," he told me.

"Bach," I said, remembering the hunter who tried to burn me alive just because I was kindred.

"Personally, they are so secret a church organization I don't think they know they exist, but essentially they're murders for Christ or some such deity," he explained to me. You'll have to go the monastery and find a way inside and find Johansen. I'm afraid I can't accompany you, but then, it's best if I prevent Sebastian from having his goons wreck this piece of history over nothing."

"Alright," I said, thinking of a plan. "If I give them too much time, they'll fort up and make it night impossible to get in. I move too fast, I can get caught by the rising sun. I think the best thing is to hit them hard and fast tomorrow at dusk, and leave none alive to tell the tale."

"I'd recommend no other course of action to the foolhardy," he said, reaffirming my strategy.

"So, ever get around to checking out the local thin bloods?"

"How any sane kindred could think these poor unfortunates are an immediate threat to us is absurd," he said, shaking his shaggy head. "Most were afraid, or at the very least, uneasy around me. Tragic."

"Well, no sense me in standing around here," I said, looking at the door. "I'll get things ready to lay waste to the place."

"Remember," Beckett said, bringing my attention back to him before I left. "Doctor Johansen is an innocent, and as such, has no idea we exist. Try not to put the idea in his head."

"I won't," I said, giving him a smile as I left.

I hit the elevator, just to feel my phone vibrate. The number was for the motel, so I answered it.

"Mistress," I heard Yukie say. "You have a visitor."

"Who is it?" I asked her, leaning against the rear wall.

"A Mira Giovanni," she said, and I nodded my head.

"Tell her I'll be there within the hour," I said, and hung up. It looked like Mira had come to roost.


	54. Chapter 54 - Introducing My Childe

**Author's Note: Here it is! The next chapter of Rise of a Shadow, 'Introducing My Childe.' Here we get to see Eliza's pick in a childe and their introduction to Kindred society. I'm sorry, but this chapter is very dialogue heavy and the only way I got through it was the constant repeat of my mantra.**

 **"I hate politics. I hate reading about them. I hate playing them. I hate writing them. I even hate watching them on my TV. I just hate politics."**

 **Repeat until they go away.**

* * *

Chapter 54 – Introducing My Childe

October 8, 2004 = Friday

~Eliza Flores~

On my way back to my car, I kept having a constant nagging thought about Lacroix and the Kue-Jin. My worries up to meeting the prince were that he did have an agreement, but though he was rather insistent that there was no alliance, it did fill in a hole. If the Kue-Jin had attacked Doctor Grout, then framed Nines for it, they could have left me as a patsy to deliver the news back to the prince to try and start a war of attrition between him and the Anarchs that might weaken both enough to allow them to be conquered by the Kue-Jin.

It was a great ploy, but as I thought it over, what if the prince were involved? Was he stupid enough to weaken himself in front of his enemy by fighting the Anarchs first? Well, if there was an alliance, it wouldn't be an enemy, if you went by the old saying "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." As it was once pointed out to me, the enemy of my enemy is my friend only works if your not enemies yourself with the person or people in the first place. Otherwise, the enemy of my enemy is still my enemy, but one can be smart enough to work together to take down a common foe before you get back to killing each other.

Of course, you didn't need to turn your back on them or get entangled in such a way that you couldn't fight them if you need to. That's the problem I saw with the war on the Anarchs was there was no way of fighting it without getting weaker in front of the Kue-Jin. Of course, a pre-emptive strike on the Kue-Jin wouldn't work either, as it was too much of a risk to the masquerade, and the people of Los Angeles would kick Lacroix out of town over the fallout.

Still, the problem was, who setup Nines. I didn't have enough proof either was involved, but there was a sort of sense that the Kue-Jin might want it done. I could stick with that, but I needed proof, and there was no real way to get it short of trying to magic it out of Ming Xiao herself.

My thoughts then went to my upcoming meeting with Mira, and the best ways to handle that. My thoughts were to turn her into a kindred and make her my childe. She had a skill I lacked, mainly in the political arena, and could help me with the mortal politicians she still had contacts with and maybe the kindred ones as well when she was more experienced.

One thought circled my brain, but I had to dismiss it, was that she would make a better primogen than me due to that skill. Problem was, Herr Mueller might be able to influence her with his domination powers. I knew I was immune, but who knew what his generation was, or had been lowered to.

Still, there were other things I would have to take into account. She was a Giovanni, and her family might not take kindly to my poaching of one of their family. Of course, any hearing her name in kindred circles might assume her to be of her family's clan, and not of Lasombra. It'd give her an advantage, if nothing else.

Of course, her first years would be mine to bear the brunt of her failures for. That alone scared me. It also meant I was going to have to scare her into following my advice. If she didn't follow it, she and I could both wind up on Trial.

My thoughts about that went to the two Tremere I kept for feeding purposes. Adding another kindred to that would be beneficial, as well as keep tensions down between them. Mira and Meredith could also talk to each other and socialize, something the latter was wanting anyway. I guess in a way, I needed to socialize a bit more too, and I could also take Mira with me.

The problem I faced with that now was that I was so busy tying up loose ends with the sarcophagus that it left me with little time to actually work on my own personal problems. Sighing, I decided that the rest of the night was mine, and before it was over, I'd introduce Mira to at least three kindred who didn't live with me

Pulling up to the motel, I noticed Cherry by the lightpost, though she was now dressed in a sheer dress that hid nothing and tall black stilettos with a chrome spike heel. What she wore now screamed whore, which I suppose was the purpose in the change, though it left me with questions on where she acquired it. Diamond wasn't supposed to be doing more than acting as her pimp, collecting money and pulling her out of sticky situations.

I rolled up in front of her, watching Cherry smile as she sauntered over to lean on the door as I rolled down the passenger window, giving me a great view down her cleavage. Her face soured when she recognized me, but she recovered quickly.

"Didn't expect to see you rolling up on me," she said as she leaned in my window.

"Lots of business?" I asked her, and she shrugged.

"Not really," she said, then grimaced. "I'm staying busy, but I can definitely see what I need to different tomorrow and why sis always keeps douche lying around."

"What are you going to different tomorrow?" I asked her.

"Bring extra clothes for one," she said, then grimaced. "I had to borrow this because some jerk ripped my top off. I'm just glad her heels fit."

"What happened?" I asked her and she looked uncomfortable for a moment.

"We were going at it and he wanted to fondle my tits but he didn't want to slow down so he just ripped it," she said, then hung her head. "I made him pay me for it, but it was ruined. I don't know what I would have done if Vicky hadn't come back when she did. She offered me access to some clothes and pasties so I could keep working."

"Nice of her," I told her, then looked around as a car drove by. "Going to head home soon?"

"Probably," she said, then yawned. "If I don't get a customer in the next hour, I will. Go take a nap then get right back out here."

"Well, I have something to go take care of," I told her, looking in my mirror to see a car turning around. "If you run into trouble, call your sister and have her get a hold of me. Any bail you need will just be added to your weekly cover."

"Thanks," she said sourly, standing up as I quickly pulled forward and turned into the motel as the other car pulled in behind me. I didn't know if it was a cop or not but after I pulled into a first available parking spot used my shadow-vision to peek in.

"Yeah, I need a date," Cherry said as she leaned in to the guy's car like she had mine. "It's forty a dance."

"Hop in then," he said, and Cherry quickly got in the guys car. I slid down to hide from view as the guy pulled into the motel, then watched as Cherry led the guy into her room.

Hopping out, I went through the little hallway to the pool and saw a lone figure on a chaise lounge near the pool. I moved closer, finding it was Mira sitting there waiting. She had a light coat on over her formal wear, but the way she was looking down in the water made me think she was thinking of suicide. If she were already here, I had to wonder how things went when the sheriff crashed Uncle Bruno's party.

Thinking back to my thoughts on the way here, I used my auspex to peer into her brain, finding out all sorts of things about her by watching various scenes of her life and hearing her thoughts. I also knew she was devastated by Uncle Bruno throwing everyone out when the Sheriff arrived, and was contemplating suicide to avoid the slow death that was inevitable.

"There's no answer down there, Miss Giovanni," I called to her, startling the brown haired woman. She spun on the chair to face me, then hung her head but kept silent.

"Uncle Bruno upset?" I asked her though I already knew the answer and she nodded.

"He kicked us all out," she whispered, finally speaking. "Said there wasn't going to be any additions to the inner circle this year."

"So you come here seeking answers," I said, cocking a hip. "Well, there are no answers. Just a choice. On one hand, you can stay out here, hoping they find the cure and you can try to keep your secret until the next party and be chosen, though I doubt that will be for some time."

Mira hung her head and slowly nodded, so I pressed on. "The other hand is vastly darker. I'm not offering salvation. There's no miracle cure for what's killing you. I won't save your life, but claim it for myself. Every minute, of every hour of every day is going to be accountable to me and if you ever," I said, pausing to point a finger directly in her face for emphasis, "cross me or defy me, I will end you myself. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said quietly.

"It's your choice," I told her backing up. "Stay here and die slowly, or come with me and submit fully to my will."

I turned and left her by the pool and opened my motel door, going inside where Yukie sat sharpening her katana on the side of the bed. Yukie looked at me after she gave her katana one long swipe with her stone, then set the stone aside. I looked back out the door to find Mira not a few feet away, and I gave her room to get by me.

Mira walked in, took in Yukie on the side of the bed as she sheathed her katana soundlessly. She was dressed Mira didn't say anything, just stood their looking at her.

"That's Yukie, my ghoul," I told Mira as I shut the door. "She acts as a servant."

"Maria said your mansion burned down," Mira said absently as Yukie stood, her katana held along the length of her arm. I had to admit she looked ready to shred both of us, but she bowed her head in submission to me as she merely stood there and awaited my command.

"I had a personal grudge with a different faction called the Sabbat," I told her. "Familiar with the name?"

"It's a personal holdings conglomerate out of Mexico City," she told me. "Uncle Bruno always said to avoid them because they play dirty and for keeps."

"Advice I wish I had," I groused, shaking my head. "In truth, they're a vampire faction that has no regard for the masquerade."

"So it's true?" she asked me and I nodded my head. "Blood magic and a kiss."

"More or less," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "That's just scratching the surface of the night. There are thirteen different vampire clans, ten of which are currently represented in this city alone. My clan is the Lasombra, the clan of shadows."

"Is that why you work through Maria?" she asked me, but I shrugged my shoulders again.

"Partly," I said, not wanting to tell her just yet that I had used Maria to infiltrate the Giovanni mansion. "She has no idea I used her either, and one day you'll have that ability too."

"Oh," she said, then looked at her feet. "How long does it take?"

"No idea," I told her, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her into the bathroom. "But you need to say goodbye to something."

"What?" she asked as I marched her into the tiny space to face the mirror. Her eyes searched the mirror for a moment before going wide at realizing I wasn't show behind her even though I had hands on both her shoulders.

"Your reflection," I told her, releasing her. "When I do this, you won't ever see yourself again in any reflective surface. No camera will ever see you."

"How do you do your makeup?" she asked me and I motioned to Yukie who had come to stand behind us, her katana still held along her arm.

"Yukie does mine," I told her. "She'll do yours tomorrow when you wakeup."

"Wakeup?" she asked, taking a step back into me.

"We sleep during the day," I told her, rubbing her arms to reassure her. She was starting to panic. "In fact, we're corpses during the day. You also can't ever be in the sun, it'll burn you. Most of the other stuff about vampires is Hollywood bull, but you'll learn."

"What about blood?" she asked, her voice quivering a bit. "Do we have to kill?"

"No," I told her, chuckling at the memory of asking Walsh the same thing not long ago. "You don't even have to feed from a person. When you wake up, I'll introduce you to some friends of mine and get you some blood in a blood bag. Not the same as neck fresh, but less risk of something going wrong."

"Thank you," she said, as I wrapped my arms around her. She stiffened at the intimacy of it, and I could see the anger in her eyes as I pressed in tight with my head right beside hers.

"Have you said your goodbyes yet to your reflection?" I asked her, my hands exploring her well toned body.

"Y-yes," she stammered, as my left hand found it's way down her cleavage and fondled her breast. "W-why are you doing this?"

"Because I want to," I told her, moving my right hand under the slit of of her skirt to feel her bare thigh. That made her breath fast, and she grabbed for my wrist.

"Stop, please!" she commanded as she tried to pull away my wrist. I just willed my potence into being and moved my hand up her thigh and began to rub her panties. I watched her face scrunch up in disgust, telling me the woman wasn't into a woman touching her this way.

"But it's what I want," I whispered in her ear as she wriggled and struggled against me, even trying to pull my other hand out of her cleavage. "Just you and me in this tiny room, alone, and you're too beautiful to not touch."

"Please," she whined as my fingers found their way under her panties.

"Don't you want to live forever as my fucktoy?" I whispered in her ear, then give it a nibble as I began to finger her against her will.

Mira give a sob as she let her hand falls away, allowing me to molest her. I continued, watching her accept her fate as my hands and fingers continued to grope and molest her picturesque body. She continued to cry, though I gave it little consideration.

"Take off your top," I whispered after several long moments of molesting her. "Show me you want this."

It seemed like time slowed down as I studied Mira in the mirror. To her, it was a simple choice. She could submit her body, mind and soul and be my fucktoy in exchange for immortality, or fight me and surely die. She was probably thinking the same thing, but it was something I had come up with to test her. Find her breaking point, and make her choose.

After peering into her brain, I had found out she hated, absolutely hated, lesbians. It made it easier to make her choose, because all I had to do was this to make her choose to submit or fight, something I couldn't tell just by looking through her brain since she had never had to make this choice before.

Looking at her now, having already activated my auspex and delving into her brain, I was pelted with every thought of revulsion Mira had ever known and the war she was having with herself. She wanted to pull away, to fight me and get my hands off her, but she knew if she gave in, gave me what I wanted, she could keep on living.

The chain of thoughts that grew stronger in her brain was that I couldn't molest her like this all night, that it would be a rarity and I'd have to go do other things. Which was true, I couldn't do this forever.

Her hands finally found motivation and began to undo her top before I had to prompt her again. The top loosed with every catch released finally revealing her breasts to the mirror. My hands weren't seen, but their effects on her body were as I continued to fondle her. With the last catch released, she tugged the top open, revealing her toned abs, and I kissed her neck.

"Well done, my childe," I whispered softly into her ear after giving it another nibble, this time with my fang after sliding them out. "Welcome to the night."

She began to pant as I slid my fangs down her jaw and began to nuzzle closer to her neck. When I lined my fangs up with her jaw, I began to sink my fangs into her skin, letting her blood flow into my mouth. Mira moaned, her sex finally moistening as I continued to fondle her as I eased her blood out of her jugular, my fangs going deeper to let the blood flow faster.

I drank her deep, sucking her blood dry to make her heart start to fail. As her blood thinned, and her heart began to flutter, I had to use my fondling hands to hold her up as her strength left her. When the last of her blood seeped into my mouth, and the artery was dead, I eased her to the floor, laying her now dead body on the carpet.

"Is she?" Yukie asked in a low tone, and I looked up at her. Her katana was in hand, the tip just above the floor. I didn't even hear her draw the blade from its scabbard, and her body language spoke volumes in that she was murderous.

"She is," I told her, then began to roll my sleeve up to reveal my wrist. "Don't interfere."

"As you wish," she said quickly, but didn't move.

Once I had my wrist bared, I bit it with my fangs to let my blood out. With my blood seeping out, I held it over her open mouth, and let the dark red, almost black blood, drip onto the back of her throat. Soon, she swallowed, telling me there was some life in her body, and I stopped the flow by grabbing my wrist.

Mira soon blinked, then began to raise herself by propping herself up on her elbows. She looked at my kneeling form, and she began to look herself over.

"Fix your top," I told her, standing up and extending her a hand. "I've got people I want you to meet and looking like a harlot isn't how I want to present you."

"No sex?" she asked, confused by the sudden change of plans, even though she was obviously relieved.

"I had to make sure you'd submit yourself to what I said," I told her as I helped her up. "It's your first rule, and I wasn't lying about it. For the next few years, everything you do is accountable to me. If you screw up, they'll kill us both."

"First rule?" she said as she began to put her top back together. "What's the rest?"

"Keep the masquerade," I told her. "Means vampire secrets stay secret. It's why the core of the Giovanni family are so secretive. If word gets out that they're vampires, the Camarilla will start wiping them out."

"So what about the Sabbat?" she asked, as she looked into the mirror for a nonexistent reflection. All it showed was Yukie, who still held her katana with whitening knuckles.

"Yeah," I drawled, looking away from her questioning gaze. "I've had a few run-ins with the local packs and they don't like me, not even a little bit. It's a kill on site type of thing, now, for me and them."

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"Learn for now," I told her. "Tomorrow I'll send you back to your mansion for your stuff before your Uncle Bruno finds out I made you kindred, our word for vampire, and destroys or sells your stuff. You're going to need everything you can. I'll also send Yukie with you. She's a hunter and can probably handle your family if they get violent."

"Hunter?" she asked, finally putting herself back together.

"Vampire hunter," I told her. "She hunts our kind. She's been neutered because I've fed her my blood, so she's harmless to me and you. Well, me anyway. She might protect you if I tell her to and that's all. She's my ghoul, a blood bound servant that does my bidding whether she wants to or not."

"She doesn't look..." Mira started to say but Yukie apparently had had enough.

"ENOUGH!" she yelled, finally raising the katana to point it at Mira. "I am standing right here! Quit talking about me..."

"Quiet, Yukie," I told her mid-rant, shutting her up with a stare over the top of my sunglasses to show my inhuman irises, or lack thereof. The katana was still pointed at her though. "And put the katana away. It's not needed now."

Yukie looked like she was ready to fight it out with me, but she finally slipped it back in it's sheath with a snick, then moved to put it back by the nightstand where presumably it would be within easy reach.

"Good," I told her as she came to stand back in front of us, arms crossed and one pissed look on her face. "Now, get dressed in one of the suits I bought for you. We'll be going out soon, and you're going to be our chauffeur. Have the car waiting for us when we get back."

"Hai," she said glumly, then started to undress herself so she could get her suit on. I motioned for Mira to follow me and walked out the door and towards Meredith's room.

"Where we headed?" Mira asked as I led her on.

"Some kindred friends of mine," I told her, not wanting to say more in the open.

"There's more than you here?" she asked, astonished.

"Two, at least," I said as we started up the stairs. "I still have much to do tonight, but I want to introduce you to some other kindred."

"Oh, feel free!" she said enthusiastically. "I love meeting new people."

"Not me," I groused through clenched teeth as we reached the top. "It's one of the reasons I decided to extend you the offer of joining us. I hate politics."

"And me with all my political friends..." she thought aloud, and I could only nod.

"Makes you a perfect addition to my plans," I told her. "Circles within circles, it gives me a headache trying to keep it all straight."

"Oh, I understand perfectly," she said as I led her to the appropriate door. "I'll be glad to help. So what are your plans?"

"I'll give you the rundown once we get in the car," I told her, then knocked on the door. Meredith wasn't long in answering, and she eyed Mira wearily.

"New friend?" she asked me, blocking the door as best she could.

"My childe," I told her, staring her down. Meredith seemed to shrink as she slid to the side, allowing us in, and Eloise was shutting the books they had out with rushed movements.

"We weren't expecting you," she said, after shutting the last one. "Hungry again?"

"Not really," I said, and I saw the look of relief in her eyes. "I came to introduce you two to my childe, Mira Giovanni. Mira, this is Eloise Watson, and my former ghoul Meredith Coates."

"Giovanni?" Eloise asked, as she eyed my childe. "You do know that the Giovanni are their own clan?"

"And that I poached one of their own favored on the eve of the vaunted kiss," I said, showing Eloise I had some understanding of the Giovanni.

"Does Bruno Giovanni know?" she asked me as she crossed her arms, a serious look in her eyes. "The Tremere have had dealings with Bruno Giovanni for years, and none of it has been good."

"What's their specialty?" I asked her.

"They're necromancers," she told me, and I paused at the remembrance of them ripping the souls from the living. "They use the souls and bodies of the dead to attack and scare their ."

"Can the dead corpses they use withstand sunlight?" I asked, and Eloise nodded.

"It's their favorite trick, especially in olden days," she said. "Raise the dead of a town's graveyard when they wanted to wipe someone out. A zombie apocalypse is sure to send the kine scurrying, and some kindred too. Nowadays, people aren't so superstitious so it's not got the shock factor it used to have."

"I can just imagine what that would have looked like," Mira said, nodding her head then frowned in thought. "But wouldn't that have destroyed the masquerade?"

"You already know of the masquerade?" Eloise said, astonished. "Wow, I went through my first week without hearing about it."

"It's the second thing she taught me," Mira told her. I let her talk, mostly to see how she'd react to other kindred, but mostly so she could learn.

"What was the first?" Eloise asked.

"That I had to be careful in what I said and do, because it's all accountable to her," she said and again, Eloise nodded in approval. "I take it you approve."

"Yes, but it's the difference in our clans," Eloise said. "Tremere aren't even allowed to leave our home chantry for years. Other clans don't have that restriction."

"Yay me," Meredith groused as she sat roughly on the couch.

"Do I need to bring you something tomorrow?" Mira offered, brightening Meredith's face.

"Nail polish?" she asked, almost sheepish. "Eighteen-sixty-five if you can find it."

"Bright and glittery, huh?" Mira said smiling. "And so very pink."

"You know the colors?" Meredith asked, a smile forming on her face.

"A bit," Mira said, smiling back. "I'll find you some."

"Thanks," she said.

"Where do you keep your blood?" I asked, not wanting to interrupt the conversation but needing to get Mira some sustenance.

"Fridge," Meredith said, pointing to the small appliance in the back of the room. "It's not bad cold, but we have a way of heating it that brings it back to life a bit."

"Could you fix me two bags, please?" I asked her. "It'll be Meredith's first feeding."

"One moment," she said moving to fulfill my request.

"So, what are you going to do tonight?" Eloise asked, moving closer to me.

"I have to go downtown and sign off on some paperwork for a property I'm buying," I told her, thinking of the golf course I was buying. "I was going to introduce her to the scourge, maybe Jean if she were present. Then, depending on the time, I might introduce her to some other kindred I know before I head for Long Beach and pick up my motorcycle and come back for dawn."

"I don't know how traffic is, but you'll get there faster if you step from shadow to shadow," she told me, and I nodded.

"I was going to use a car to get to the tower, but if traffic gets bad I will," I said as Meredith came back with a couple of warm bags of blood.

"Here you go sweety," Meredith said, giving her the bags. "Just think of them as a juice pouch."

"Alright," Mira said, slipping the bag in her mouth and drinking the bag dry. "Tasty."

"Drink the second one as well," I told her, as she looked at it as if unsure.

"Your body was drained of all it's blood," Eloise told her. "You need to replace it so you don't have problems."

"Okay," she said, sipping the next one dry as well. "It really is like a juice pack."

"And handy to keep around too," I told her. "Well, ladies, much to do tonight."

"Yes, it's just past one so plenty of time to do some damage tonight," she told me.

"Plenty of time," I replied, putting my hand on the door. "Well Mira, we need to go."

"I'll be back tomorrow with that nail polish," Mira called as she joined me when I opened the door.

"I'll be waiting," Meredith said sourly as we left the room. Out on the walkway, I could see Yukie in her suit as she waited by the passenger's door, the lit lights of the Civic telling me it was idling and waiting for us.

"That didn't take long," Mira said as we walked to the car.

"Nope," I told her. "But they're friends of mine and also under my control, even if they are a different clan."

"How did you manage that?" she asked me.

"Eloise owes me a boon for testifying on her behalf to her bosses boss," I told her, "And Meredith owes me for saving her from the prince, though I haven't made that one formal. She can't really do anything because for right now she's under Eloise's protection and training, as they're the same clan with the same abilities."

"She didn't seem happy, though," she noted as we reached the car. Yukie opened the door, holding it for me.

"She's not left the motel since she came back after her turning," I explained as I took my seat and Yukie shut the door for me. Mira had went around and entered the other rear door, shutting it herself as Yukie rushed around to the driver's seat and got in. "In fact, she wants to get out, but Eloise wants her trained in using her powers first, and I guess that include a lot of knowledge of the different clans as well."

"What are you going to teach me?"

"Little," I told her, making her frown. "For one, our powers don't require so much training as there is little you can do until you grow in power. Each clan, as you may have started to figure out, has different abilities."

"Like Uncle Bruno being able to manipulate the dead?"

"For one, but each clan has differing abilities," I told her. "Some of these abilities overlap, some don't. Our clan is a clan of shadows and manipulation. One thing we do that no other clan can is manipulate shadows," I said, pulling a katana from the shadows. "You might try it, see what you can do."

Mira grew thoughtful as I dispelled the katana, then formed a rapier.

"Good," I told her. "Each power is also linked to an ability or skill. I imagine that to grow your shadow powers you will also need to learn to move unseen like a skilled politician."

"And I thought you hated politics," she said, slightly mocking me as she let her rapier fall back into shadow.

"I do," I told her, as we continued on. "Didn't say I wasn't good at it.

"Another power we have is the ability to lend strength to our muscles through potence," I said. "It will allow you to overpower grown men in a hand-to-hand fight or lift things that are too heavy for you to lift otherwise."

"So being raped is a thing of the past?" she said, and I shrugged.

"To a mere mortal, yeah," I said, and Mira smiled. "Also, not saying it won't hurt, but knives and guns are practically useless against us. They won't do enough damage on their own to kill you outright."

"So if I walked in on a robbery..."

"You sit it out and let what happens happen," I told her, giving her a serious stare. "You can't save the day and be a hero. Heroes make the news and we have to stay in the background. The world doesn't have to think you're dead, but you need to fade into the shadows and from the memory of most people."

"But the senators…" she started to say when I held up my hand.

"Most people," I reiterated. "Your special contacts can know of your continued existence. Also, sending Christmas cards is allowed, as long as it doesn't contain anything more than fondest wishes."

"So, no nude photographs?" she said, frowning.

"You can try," I said, then shook my head. "But remember what I said about mirrors not showing us Lasombra. All photographic equipment uses mirrors, so how are you supposed to take a photograph?"

"But our driver's license?!"

"I had to hold a casting call for mine," I said, giving her a wan smile. "It's not even my face on it now."

"That's terrible!" she exlaimed.

"Fact of being Lasombra," I told her. "We lose our reflections upon being turned."

"So, one day I'm going to get pulled over and have to explain to some cop that it's me on my license?" she asked.

"Well, for that you can also use presence to influence people's feelings," I told her. "It's our third ability. You can use it in a fight to make people scared of you, or in a speech to make people like you."

"Or to make people love me?" she asked, and I nodded.

"And when you get older there's others powers that you may manifest, such as celerity, dominate, and auspex," I told her. "I've acquired them all thanks to some meddling from our clan founder, Lucian."

"What did he do?" she asked me.

"He tried to possess me, turning my body into something that would handle his powers," I told her to make her mouth fall open. "I'm only twenty."

"Well, still," she said, and then looked out the window. "Twenty years of existence as an undead..."

I couldn't help but laugh at the thought that she had taken what I had to mean I had lived twenty years as a kindred. She give me a funny look as I brought it under control.

"I mean, since I was born, I am only twenty," I told her, again shocking her. "I've only been kindred for two weeks."

"And how long does it take to normally gain that power?" she asked me.

"Centuries," I said, and her mouth fell open. "That's why I'll need your help. I want to make a compound out of a golf course and I know I'm going to have to fight tooth, claw and nail to get it."

"So, why the compound?" she asked me, but I could only relax into the seat as I readied myself to explain.

"In my brief time as a kindred, I've seen enough to know that we need security," I began to explain. "Now, while most people might think small and heavily fortified, I want to expand and fortify then hide it behind a convent," I said, and her eyes went up at that idea. "While I don't expect most to understand the idea, there is a certain symmetry to the idea of having an army of nuns."

"Most nuns are pacifists," she iterated, and I nodded in agreement.

"Most people are when you get right down to it," I countered. "But anyone can be trained to fight to protect hearth and home. We also don't even have to get rid of the ones who won't fight, just use them for maintenance of the grounds."

"And the ones who will fight to protect it," she said, nodding in agreement. "That I can see being helpful overall to protecting and having a large place, but how does a mere mortal stack against us vampires?"

"Kindred, please," I informed her. "Say kindred instead of vampires. It helps keep the masquerade. As to your question, they don't, but most of the time just getting spotted will send them scurrying, especially if you train and equip them to take us down."

"So, how do you keep them loyal?"

"Well, if you start a cult..."

"They keep themselves loyal hoping to become one of us?" she said, coming to the idea with a little prompting.

"Whether it be through peace or war, all have a purpose," I told her. "Sometimes an open secret is easier kept than one behind veil and shadows."

"I like it," she said, then laughed softly. "Must be because I'm Catholic."

"Me too," I told her, looking out the window as we entered the downtown area. Funny how time flies.

"This exit, yes?" Yukie said as we neared the appropriate exit. For the next few minutes I gave her point by point turning directions to the parking garage of the tower, where Yukie parked the Civic.

"We need a better car," Mira commented as we got out amid the various Lexus and Mercedes, Yukie herself getting my door for me.

"Yeah, I meant for the Civic to be Yukie's daily driver and not the one we'd get chaperoned in," I told her as I took in the other cars. "Oh well, it's only a lease. Yukie, wait for us. We'll be back in a bit."

"Hai," she said, shutting my door as I moved to the elevator. We had a slight pause as the elevator descended to us, but soon we were standing in Camarilla headquarters.

"Welcome to the Camarilla," I told her, leading the way to Walsh's office.

"They sure know how to make a rich girl feel welcome," she said as she took it all in. "I bet this cost over a billion dollars total."

"Considering it was built by a Ventrue who measures his years in the centuries, probably," I told her, again shocking her. "And never go dollar-per-dollar with one. They are money, literally. I think they built the worldwide banking system because if they want money, they can just withdraw it from the Ventrue bank and not have to pay it back. Though I hear it's taboo for them to do it."

"I'm going to have to remember that," she said as we stood outside Walsh's office.

"The kindred you are about to meet is Scourge Walsh," I told her. "He's a Ventrue, and holds the rank of scourge within the Camarilla, which is like the under-sheriff. He's the one who send the deputies if he hears of a masquerade breach, so keeping him happy might get you a friendly phone call instead of an angry Gangrel kicking in your door."

"Definitely noted," she said as I was about to knock on the closed door when something struck me.

"Have you ever noticed a slight pang of hatred when you hear the word Ventrue?"

"Yes," she said, and I nodded.

"Our clan has a deep-seated hatred for the Ventrue," I told her, swallowing my own hatred at bringing them up. "You'll need to set it aside, as they currently run the local Camarilla and everything we do is by their laws. Just know, that like anyone you hate, you'll feel elation if you best them. Show neither to Scourge Walsh."

"Alright," she said and I finally announced my presence with a knock.

"Enter," I heard, so I opened the door to find Walsh stashing a leather bound ledger in his filing cabinet. His smile at seeing me soured a bit when he took in Mira, but he sat in his chair and motioned for us to sit as well.

"So, who is this charming young lady?" he asked as once we were settled.

"This is my new childe," I said, introducing Mira. "Mira Giovanni."

"Giovanni?" he said, his smile fading as the name sank in. "Married into the family or born?"

"Born," she said, smiling at Walsh's discomfort. "Bruno Giovanni is my uncle."

"I...see," he said hesitantly before studying Mira. "Has your uncle been informed of your Embrace?"

"I'm sure he will find out tomorrow evening when I return to my mansion for my personal things," she told Walsh, and I sat back to watch her work.

"Are you planning to go alone?" he asked and Mira shrugged.

"I hadn't intended to take more than a driver with me," she stated. "Most of what I own is clothing and small personal items, nothing a young, vibrant ghoul couldn't handle."

"I was worried more about your uncle blowing his top and you disappearing," he muttered. "Would you like to take one of my deputies with you? He wouldn't dare make one disappear for fear of angering me."

"I'd be delighted to have one," she said happily, and I suppressed a smile. I might have to make Mira the primogen if she kept this up.

"It's a simple thing, really," he said, picking up his phone. "Rochelle, send one of the deputies in," he told his ghoul before hanging up the phone. "The charge for such a small act is even neglible."

"If it's neglible, why mention it?" she joked with Walsh. Walsh caught the joke, making him chuckle and even I smiled.

"It's just a fee to help cover the deputy's costs on your behalf," he added. "The fee itself is negotiable between you and deputy, dependent on how much intervention and time is needed."

"That's helpful," Mira said, her smile growing. I smirked myself as I figured she was likely to try and use her new vampiric powers to 'negotiate' any price way down to save her money. "And it'll help me protect my bank account until I can find a new stock broker."

"A stock broker?" Walsh asked her. "Why the change?"

"I'm going to figure that I can't continue to use my old one as he's highly tied to the family," she said, and Walsh nodded. "But finding one I trust to handle everything while I sleep the day away is going to be difficult."

"A word of advice on the stock market," Walsh said, and I waited with bated breath. Hearing one of the old one's speak their advice was surely worth it, especially one who has made millions. "Buying and selling stock for a dime to a quarter's profit per share is overrated. The real money to be made is buy established companies cheap that have constant profit margins."

"Common stock does that?" she asked, and I prayed Walsh answered it.

"It does if one follows all the proper procedures," he said, and I felt my brain swim. "The more common short sell is merely a bet between the trader and buyer that the price will raise or fall creating a profit for either when it's sold back. What real buyers do is buy and keep the stock for years, trading off the profit of a short sell for the profits the company normally makes.

"For example, Ford, a company I own stock in made forty cents a share this past year," he told us. "If one owned, say, one percent of the company stock or forty million shares, that's sixteen million dollars in profits at forty cents a share that you've managed to accumulate without the need to worry over a bad short sell or an economic dive."

"Whoa," Mira breathed, and I nodded sincerely. I was looking at the stock market so wrong. This is why I needed a financial adviser that was worth his salt.

"And that's merely one percent of one company," he said. "I have stocks in many companies. It helps keep me solvent without the need to dip into the clan's bank account."

"If only our clan had something similar," Mira said, but the question was inherent to me.

"I've yet to meet a member of our clan," I finally said after she gave me a questioning look. "What we offer to fellow members is as much a mystery to me as the full range of our shadow powers. But to start our night, I need to replace my checkbook for my account."

"Ah, lost in the house fire," Walsh summarized.

"Indeed," I said, confirming his thoughts.

"Not a problem," he said as he made a notation on the pad in front of him. "Where do you want it sent?"

"Pleasure Inn in Santa Monica," I told him. "The desk clerk will hold it for me until I can get it."

""That's not a problem, and we can finalize your paperwork for the Gardena Country Club and Golf Course," he told me, reaching into a drawer for a folder held closed only by a large rubber band. "Fifty million and it's all yours. No binding contracts or entanglements were found, so it's ready as a building block for your future."

"Great," I said, seeing the various lines all made out for me to sign. Walsh handed me a pen and I signed off on everything, thinking it was time to get things ready to move forward. I still needed to check things out for my new strip club, which wasn't getting finished either. "Do you have the contact information for the current head of the club?"

"Vanessa Seiche," he said, giving me her phone number. "She's the general manager and person in charge of everything."

"I'll get a hold of her as soon as I'm free," I said, filing it away in my brain. "I still have much to do tonight."

"Before you go," Walsh said, stopping Mira and I from standing from our chairs, "I assume part of your reason for bringing your childe to see me was introducing her to the masquerade?"

"Part of it," I confessed. "And to introduce her to the man in charge of keeping said masquerade."

"It was to help familiarize me in case I ran into problems so I'd know who to turn to for help," Mira said, simplifying matters for me in ways I had trouble doing. "Most people wouldn't know how to deal with the authorities because they have no experience with it until it's too late."

"Very true," Walsh conceded.

"You'd be surprised how many people wouldn't know what bail is," I admitted. "I had to learn to get one of my ghouls out of jail, recently."

"Do I need to interfere?" Walsh said, and I shrugged.

"Not yet," I told him. "I've gotten Venus Dare out of jail on bond and she's waiting her court date. She's hoping to plead it out with the local authorities."

"Might I ask the charges?"

"Running a red light, fleeing from the police, resisting arrest," I said as innocuously as I could, but ended up sounding squeamish.

"Must have been a Monday," he said, then laughed. "If they start a trial on those charges just let me know. It can cost a few favors but I can get you in touch with people who can get the charges dropped."

"I'll keep it in mind," I said, wincing at the thought of owing more people. The door opened behind us, and Jean stepped in, wearing a heavy leather duster that was currently closed

"If there's nothing else?"

"No, nothing comes to mind," he said, so Mira and I rose from our seats. "Just call me, Miss Giovanni, should you find any masquerade violations or questions. There is a constant bounty for violators, so calling in is to your advantage as well."

"Thank you," Mira said, smiling at the scourge from the door. "It'll be appreciated."

Opening the door, the three of us moved outside where I turned to Jean.

"Hello Jean," I said, offering the Gangrel a friendly hand in greeting.

"Hey sweetie," she said, giving me a hug. "So, renting a deputy for something?"

"I am," Mira said, also shaking Jean's hand. "I have to say though, you look familiar."

"I get that a lot," Jean told her, laughing a bit. "So, what's the deal?"

"I'll be headed back home tomorrow night to get my personal stuff and Walsh offered a deputy to make sure no one bothered me," Mira summarized for her.

"Giovanni, right?" Jean asked, the humor fading from her voice and her smile was gone now. "Married or born?"

"Born," Mira said.

"How upset is Bruno going to be?" Jean asked, looking at me as if I were holding a snake.

"Very upset," I said, getting a frown from Jean. "Mira was a contestant for entering her family's inner circle by becoming a ghoul, with a potential offing to become kindred later down the line."

"Sweet merciful," Jean exclaimed, shaking her head back and forth. "Bruno is going to be furious!"

"He can go get tanned," I said, crossing my arms. "He threw her out after the deputies stormed his party last night. She came to me asking me to save her, so I poached nothing!"

"Would you care to go with us?" Jean asked, but I shrugged my shoulders.

"I have to go pay my respects to the hunters tomorrow," I said, getting a wicked grin from Jean. "They have the professor we need to open the sarcophagus, so I have to go get him back."

"Now that's one fight I'd love to join," Jean said, opening her duster to reveal a wicked set of shotguns on her hips. The guns weren't all that long, looking more like oversized antique pistols with a modern pistol grip and two barrels which I bet Jean used to rip people apart. I also got a look her well toned and curvy body all clad in dark, form-fitting leather and had to agree she was the sexiest women ever. "But, I'll make sure Miss Giovanni gets back from her family's place without a problem."

"Take the guns, leave the cannoli," I flatpanned, making everyone laugh.

"Love that movie," Mira said, still laughing.

"I know," Jean said, trying to get her laughing under control. "It was one of Coppola's best works and a real shame I never got to work with him. Considering the 'New Hollywood' group he kind of led, it was a shame I became kindred so early."

"You worked in Hollywood?" Mira asked, but Jean just shrugged.

"Pretty much every working girl does in one form or another," she said, side-stepping the issue. "I grew up here, so working in Hollywood was always a dream of mine."

"Not me," Mira said, rolling her eyes a bit. "Governor, maybe, or a senator, but not an actress."

"And I just wanted to be a doctor," I said, again getting some laughs. "I think we all had big dreams when we were younger."

"Some of us get closer than others," Jean said, being mysterious as she buttoned up her duster. "So what time do you want me to meet you tomorrow?"

"I don't know what time I'll get up, so thirty minutes after sunset?" Mira said, looking to me for support.

"That should work," I said and Jean nodded as well. "She'll be at the Pleasure Inn in Santa Monica, room one-fifty-one."

"I'll be there," she said, punching the elevator button for us.

"I'll be waiting," Mira said as she stepped inside the opening doors.

"Thanks Jean," I said, stepping inside myself. "If you need backup, find a hole and give me a ring. I'll back you up."

"Hunters and Giovanni?" Jean asked, giving me a sly smile. "Bring a big gun."

"I carry an M249 with a thousand rounds in a solid chain in the trunk of my car," I said, wiping the smile off Jean's face as the door closed. When Mira gave me a questioning look, I just smiled. "It's a big military gun that can sustain fire for fifteen seconds with what's in the box, and that's just a quarter of a chain."

"So, a full minute of shooting?" Mira asked, going wide eyed.

"An unfortunate side-effect of being kindred," I said, sighing to rest against the wall. "It seems that all kindred do is make war against each other."

"So, a political background is an advantage?" Mira asked, and I nodded as we dropped through the tower.

"You don't know how much of an advantage," I said, closing my eyes. "Most kindred are like little children, easily manipulated by their elders. Though, I think I should point out, with powers like dominate where you can control another's mind and actions or presence where you can influence their emotions and feelings towards or against you."

"But can it be defended against?" she asked me, and I just shrugged.

"You can't dominate a kindred of a lower generation than you, so you'll never be able to dominate me," I told her, getting a nod of understanding from Mira. "Likewise, since I'm fourth generation kindred, your fifth generation, and while there are more fifth generation kindred around than fourth, we're talking a select few versus a handful in the entire world. Most kindred seem to be eight to tenth generation or older."

"So, dominate isn't something that works against me?"

"It can, if you go up against someone who is also fifth generation or lower," I told her. "In clan Tremere there's a woman named Meerlinda who could, and four others in that clan who can dominate _me_."

"What about presence?" she asked, and I sighed.

"At a Trial, the prince tried to use his presence abilities to influence me into cowling to him and I rolled it back at him with little problem," I told her as we reached the bottom and stepped out of the elevator together. "Of course, I had Lucian in me then so it made me a lot stronger. I don't know if I could do it again."

"Mistress," Yukie said, opening the door for me like a proper chauffeur. It was almost comical given that the car was a Honda Civic.

"Thank you, Yukie," I said, taking my seat in the car. Mira got in the other side, and soon Yukie had us going out of the garage.

"Head for Hollywood," I told her, giving her directions for Michele's mansion.

"What's in Hollywood?" Mira asked me and I smiled as I watched businesses go by, committing it all to memory.

"Michele Riviere, Toreador clan primogen," I told her. "The Toreador are the clan of artists in the Camarilla, as much as we are the clan of shadows. I'm starting to think we're the assassins, but we seem to be as much leaders as the Ventrue."

"Well, up until the Middle Ages, most of Europe was under the control of the church," Mira told me. "Considering we're a clan used to working in the shadows, maybe we ran the church and lost out to Ventrue backed lords."

"It would explain our mutual hatred of each other," I said, giving it some thought. "It would also explain why kings and lords acted against the church throughout the dark ages."

"Maybe I can try to contact some of the Sabbat and find a Lasombra kindred to talk to?" she asked, and I nodded.

"Just don't invite them to town just yet," I told her. "The Sabbat and Camarilla just don't get along. We might have to go to a more neutral city to meet them, too."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said as we drove along.

I gave her the basic rundown of the other clans, including that Jean was a Gangrel and they were a lone predator type clan. She sat and intently learned everything that I had to offer, including the fact that soon I would also be teaching her how to use guns.

"So, this Larry sells and buys guns?" she asked, once I told her of my preferred black arms dealer.

"Even rocket launchers," I told her. "But everything comes with a price."

"When do I meet him?" she asked me, and I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'll probably take you by to meet him on our way to get my bike," I told her, making her smile.

"What kind do you ride?"

"A Kawasaki Ninja ZX-12R," I told her. "One of the best on the market."

"How fast have you had it?" she asked me as she looked out the other window at the mansions we were passing.

"One eighty," I said, thinking of my first run with it and she spun her head back as if she thought I wasn't serious. "Another side-effect of housing Lucian is that I've started acquiring extra vampiric powers, including celerity, and auspex. Celerity allows me to accelerate my body and thinking so I can move faster than anyone else or move faster than the eye can see."

"Like in the movies?" Mira asked and I nodded.

"I've heard some kindred can reach over two hundred miles an hour on their own."

"Wow," she said as her eyes went wide. "So it gives you Jedi-like reflexes?"

"Pretty much," I told her, shrugging as I did so. "I have heard one guy who can dodge bullets shot point blank if he knows he's being shot at, but he has to know first."

"So much to look forward to," she said longingly.

"That there is," I told her as we pulled into Michele's driveway. "Just think, one day you'll be an elder like Michele, have your own mansion, a childe of your own..."

"And still be second to you," she said bitterly as the car stopped under the awning. "But, so goes mother to daughter."

"Or in our case, sire to childe," I corrected her as Yukie opened my door.

I stepped out just as a red headed young man opened the door to the mansion. It wasn't Copper, Michele's redneck ghoul I had met before, so I figured it was Todd. He was dressed well in a dark suit, and bowed as Mira and I moved closer.

"Come to see Miss Riviere?" he said as he stood up.

"We have," I told the ghoul. "I'm Eliza Flores and this is my childe, Mira."

"A pleasure, ladies," he said, taking Mira's hand when she offered it. "If you will but follow me?"

We followed the ghoul into the mansion, running into Remy just as she was leaving Michele's inner sanctum. She was dressed in a stunning navy blue satin gown with a beaded halter top that sparkled in the low light to cast pinpricks of light along the wall.

"Hello, Remy," I said, seeing my childe going goo-goo eyed at Remy's exquisite dress. I didn't want the girl getting confused as to who Michele really was, and Remy's attire could be confusing even at the best of times.

"Bonsoir, Mademoiselle Flores," she said in her heavy French accent. "My mistress will see you now."

"Thank you," I told her as we followed her into the inner sanctum.

Mira seemed in awe of the artwork as we passed, but it was Michele herself who really stole the show. Dressed in a royal blue sequined floor length dress with a halter top accented with what had to be real diamonds to showcase her ample bosom, she was a beauty to behold. Everything about her screamed high couture from the matching lace and diamond covered high heels to the embedded diamonds in the gold rope chain running through her hair.

"I hope you didn't get dressed for me?" I asked when I took in her breathtaking outfit.

"Pas toi," she said, giving me a smile. "I had a meeting with several Toreadors and wanted to...remind them of certain things," she told me. "Would you or your guest like refreshment?"

"No, thank you," I told her.

"Um, non merci, Mademoiselle Riviere," Mira said in a convincing French accent. "Jai nourri récemment."

"Very good," Michele said, giving Mira a broad smile. "It is so refreshing to hear proper French again."

"I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty," Mira said, ducking her head in embarrassment. "But I'm hoping to one day again walk the Passages Couverts and partake of some of Paris' greatest shopping."

"Hmm," Michele said, smiling at my childe's familiarity with her hometown. "Ever take a walk down the Rue de la Paix?"

"Only for some of the best jewelry ever made," Mira said, smiling herself as they shared a private laugh. I wasn't sure what they were talking about, as I'd never been out of California, not even to go to Mexico.

"Michele," I said, once the two had calmed down a bit. "This is my childe, Mira. Mira, this is the Toreador clan primogen, Michele Riviere."

"Please to make your acquaintance," Mira said, nodding her head to the elder kindred.

"As am I," Michele said.

"I brought her out to introduce her to some of my acquaintances in the Camarilla," I said, hoping Michele was savvy to my word choice and not mention any Anarch business. Not that I didn't trust my childe, but I didn't need a leak in the dam me and Michele were currently holding because Mira was young and impressionable. If she were ever cornered by my someone like Mueller or the prince, she might be tricked into giving something away.

"I can appreciate that," Michele said, nodding her head slightly in agreement. "Do you like my home, Mira?"

"The artwork alone must have cost a fortune," Mira said, pay a compliment to our host.

"Several fortunes, really," Michele said, looking at the artwork around us. "Most of these are original pieces from the Louvre's basement. They are merely on loan so someone might enjoy them."

"They are enjoyed," Mira said, looking around. "So why the windowless room? Does it help keep your artwork from deteriorating?"

"It is actually to keep the spies of the Nosferatu out of my conversations," Michele said bitterly. "I had it built in the seventies on the basis of keeping the Russian spies from hearing important state conversations. That means a complete lack of modern technology in this room and the walls are a foot thick of solid concrete and another foot of solid sound dampening technology on either side. No sound escapes it, no one can see into it, and no electronic signal ever gets out. Your phones are dead, yes?"

She asked that last with a smile, and I reached for my phone. It was indeed dead to all signals, and I just tucked it back into my pocket. Mira had pulled out her own phone, but she just slipped it back into her purse.

"A signal blocker," I said, and Michele nodded.

"My architects and engineers were aware that signals could be transmitted by radio outside these walls so they incorporated the best in passive signal jamming into this room," Michele said as she continued her predatory smile. "I didn't add the active signal jammer until a few years ago. I also actively use my auspex skills to check for auras on the premises."

"That makes this one secure room," Mira said approvingly.

"It has one drawback," Michele said, bowing her head a bit. "In the time since, they have grown more adept at using machines that are moved by remote operator. Even my auspex cannot see these threats. In that, I have to rely on the signal jamming properties of this room to keep it secure, but if one were to drill through the walls or floor..."

"They breach your privacy and you don't detect it," I finished for her, even as her statement had me thinking of the similar room I was planning on my own estate. I was thinking something far grander than this one story room, something more in line with the Great Room in my former mansion, maybe two or three stories tall but I was still stumped on what to fill it with.

"Oui," Michele said, nodding in approval that I understood her fears. "But its security is available to your childe as well should the Sabbat finally corner you in some dark alley, though I think like a cornered predator they will rue the night they cornered one of the city's best predators."

"That they will," I said, my smile deepening at Michele's complement to my skills. "And thank you for agreeing to look after my childe should anything happen to me."

"It is a small thing for the good you do," Michele told me. "Besides, I want to see what the childe of an antediluvian makes of herself."

"Setting high standards already?" Mira joked with her.

"High standards are the only way one excels," Michele told her. "If one sets ones standards low, they never achieve much."

"That is true," Mira said, nodding her head in thought. "But if one always tries to exceed their abilities, they may become depressed by their failures."

"Also true, especially among the weak willed," Mira agreed. "Which is why the weak make such terrible kindred and why you should never embrace such. Even the lesser clans of Brujah, Gangrel and Malkavian require a bit of core strength in those they embrace. Those that don't rarely succeed in this life, becoming little more than the kine they once were."

"I'll have to remember that," Mira said, keeping a smile on her face.

"Well, we don't want to waste the night," I said, rising back to my feet. Mira was quick to join me and even Michele rose from her chair, doing so with an odd, gravity defying grace that left the rest of us in awe.

"Feel free to return," she said, moving forward a few steps. "I'm afraid I reached the position where only those who require my help or have political ambitions come to call, and a visit from me is often seen in a bad light."

"I'll be the same way soon" I said, thinking of my status as an antediluvian. "Kindred will think I'll have come to feed from them if I come visiting."

"Oui, to feed, but not to kill," she said knowing my position. "But I also know you have your own sources and do not need to go hunting."

"True," I said as Mira gave me a questioning look. "Enjoy yourself, Michele. I have the land I'm going to put my new mansion on, and once I do, I'd enjoy your visits."

"One of the few I might call on as an equal," Michele said. "I could also help you fill your home with lovely furniture once it is built."

"I might also ask you for the name of a good architect to help me build it," I told her. "But first, I need an idea of what I wish to build."

"Then I will ask around for a worthy architect," she said, smiling at me. "But, off with you. The night would wane cold if we stood on formality."

"Thank you, Michele," I said, as I started to file out. Mira was right behind me but I had one last look of Michele as I turned to leave out the door. She looked a little sad to see us go, standing all alone in the middle of her sanctuary. I activated my auspex ability to see her aura, but I couldn't tell much about her mood, but watched as she just turned slowly to go back to her chair now that she was alone.

I let my auspex fade as we stepped outside, finding a bright wave of purple and red emanating from Yukie as she stood beside the Civic. She didn't look particularly happy, but the moment she saw me she opened the car door in invitation. Once inside, she shut the door on me as Mira climbed in the other side, and soon we were back on the road.

"Heading to get your Ninja?" Mira asked me after I gave Yukie the directions for the Ride or Die club in Long Beach.

"Yes," I told her, thinking I needed my ride back as Yukie drove around a slow moving car.

"Too bad I'm in a split skirt," Mira said, her lip out as she pouted.

"We can fix that," I said after thinking it over, then remembered the biker apparel in the store where I had bought the Ninja. "Yukie, change of plans," I told my ghoul as I gave her directions to the store. "We'll pick you up some proper riding clothes and then we can go get my Ninja."

"Thanks," Mira said, giving me a smile. The store wasn't a far trip, only twenty minutes in the light traffic. I had Yukie do a slow drive by of the store, allowing me to find a good shadow in the store to jump to. When I had, Yukie stopped just down the street and let me and Mira out.

"You can head home if you want," I told Yukie after she shut my door. "I'll be back later."

"I wish you well," she told me as she turned and walked away. She got back in the car and gently eased back onto the street and soon disappeared around a corner.

"So, we're going to break in?" Mira asked as I grabbed her by the waist.

"Not quite 'break'," I said, then shadow-stepped us inside the store. Mira gasped at the sudden change, then looked around the dark store.

"Dark in here," she said, looking around. To me it was just right, so I slipped off my shades to see normally.

"As a master of shadows, you have the ability to shift light to dark," I told her, watching as she concentrated on a rack of helmets. "Will your eyesight to change, and you should see the light change and everything become more brightly lit."

"Nice," she said, then looked around again. "Weird though. The lights themselves are dark now, but I can see norm...Whoat!"

"What?" I asked her, as she stepped closer to me.

"What happened to your eyes?"

"Oh," I said, chuckling softly. "It happens to our clan in time. With it, or maybe because of it, comes a greater infinity for shadows. I don't even have to change my sight anymore, but I have to wear shades to see normally, otherwise the lights blind me."

"Ah," she said, then began looking around.

"So, feel free to get yourself something to ride in," I told her. "And remember, don't worry about the cameras, they don't see us."

"Alright," she said, as she began to move around the store.

Mira picked out her clothes, a set of leather pants, boots, and a vest. I picked out a backpack to store her clothes in as she swapped out her clothes, soon standing in what she had picked out. She craned her neck to check out her body, but I could tell she was wanting a mirror.

"The lack of a reflection sucks, doesn't it?" I asked her and she finally quit craning neck and just nodded.

"Do I look alright?" she asked and I smiled.

"Yes, you do," I told her, then handed her the backpack containing her clothes. She frowned as she took it, but slung it over her shoulders anyway. "I know it ruins the look, but unless you're going to throw your clothes out, a necessary evil."

"You're right, but I don't have to like it," she said as she stepped in close to me. "You going to do that teleport thing to your bike?"

"Yes," I said, shifting my sight to look at the bar and shop where my bike was kept. It was quiet with only a few people milling around outside, so I held the shadows in my mind even as I let them slip from my sight. "Ready?"

"Ready," she said, stepping close and taking her in my arms, stepped us just outside the gate to appear that we had been dropped off by taxi. The people outside didn't even notice us till we entered, and it was met with sneers and lascivious looks from the men, and jealousy from the ladies.

"What you here for," one of the men challenged, rising with his beer in his hand.

"Picking up my ride," I told him, again not backing down from the challenge. "It's the Kawasaki Ninja that just had tires and rims put on it."

"Oh, you need to talk to Dave then" he said, then turned and shouted in the door for the man. When Dave stepped out, I could tell it was the same bear of a man I had done business with before.

"Back for the Ninja, right?" he said and I nodded as he led us into the shop. "Didn't have a single problem getting it apart. The bolts and screws didn't even have time to rust."

"Gotta love that," I snarked as she showed me bike. It looked ready to shred the curves with its new aggressive theme on the rims. I was just curious as to how the tires were going to handle the curves.

"Nothing left to do but give you these," Dave said, pulling my keys from a key box. "Thanks for pre-paying, by the way. The club doesn't have the money to afford mods like this."

"Not a problem," I said, taking the key. "Mind getting the door for me?"

"Sure," he said, going to roll up the garage door. I swung on my bike, lifting the kickstand with a boot and then bringing the engine to life. Mira swung up behind me, a little unsure of herself so I made sure to hold the bike steady as she climbed up behind me.

When she did, and Dave had the door half-way up, I slipped my Ninja into gear and roared out into the yard, and after finding the way clear, popped it into second and left the yard at speed. I got a yelp of surprise from Mira at the speedy exit, but never slowed down as I took the next intersection.

The tires seemed to be holding pretty well, so as I took the entrance ramp to the interstate to head north, kicked it up a gear and started to wind it out, already entering the hundreds while starting third gear. I didn't hit fourth until I was doing over a buck-twenty. Mira held on tight to me as I kept it roaring down the empty highway, soon dropping it into fifth as I hit one-fifty.

The road was like glass now as we roared down the highway. A quick glance down told me that I almost had hit the limiter as I kicked into the sixth and final gear. With that, I crept the speedometer up almost to one-ninety, finally hitting the limiter to make it bounce just a bit.

Mira kept squeezing me tight as we zipped along and we ate the miles fast. A thought hit me as I looked down at the clock to see it was just past five-thirty in the morning. Sunrise wasn't for another fifty-ish minutes, and there was one thing I was wanting to do.

Blowing by the exit for the motel, I kept on going, soon taking Highway 1 towards Malibu. I geared down, diving into the corner hard and laying it down like a real pro. The tires squalled through the turn, telling me I was using my traction to the fullest. Once I was out of the corner, I climbed back into the hundreds, running along the coast in the pre-dawn pinkness as dawn began to break.

I was looking for a monastery, according to Beckett, and he said it was somewhere northwest of Malibu on the beach. I kept following the highway, eventually having to slow down closer to traffic speeds as we reached Malibu. The town itself was waking up, making for somewhat treacherous roads for my bike.

It wasn't until I hit the other side of Malibu that I was able to open it back up into the seventies. Following the road into the hills, and the sky brightening, it silhouetted an odd shape in front of me on the skyline. Watching it for a moment, I decided that was likely the monastery.

Slowing down, I kept an eye for turn offs leading towards the monastery, finally finding one that wound through the rocks. I took it for a good hundred feet, long enough for my Ninja's headlight to illuminate some dirt and the myriad of motorcycle tracks leading through the area.

"Gotcha," I said, turning slowly around after marking the spot in my mind.

"The hunters?" Mira asked by nearly yelling in my ear against the wind, and I nodded.

"This is their hideout," I told her easing back onto the road. "I'm coming back out tomorrow night and cleaning it out in my search for a missing professor."

"Is he kindred?" she asked.

"No," I told her. "He's completely human, but he might have information we need so they kidnapped him."

"What information?" she asked as I slowed down to wind through Malibu.

"Archaeological," I said, keeping it simple. "We might be old, but we didn't build the damn Ankaran Sarcophagus. It might hold an ancient kindred, or just mummified remains. We have to make sure but it's locked somehow."

"Oh," she said finally as we began to leave town, then I heard her yawn. "...tired."

"I'll have you back to the motel soon," I said, opening the throttle even to pass a car on the right. Mira kept her hold on me as I continued an over a hundred mile an hour ride down the scenic route, passing cars however I could.

When Mira's hand began to slip, I used my left to grab them to keep Mira from falling off. When I glanced back over my shoulder, she was already asleep, her head lolling now on my shoulder. I smiled at her, figuring it was later than I thought and rushed her on back to the motel.

Pulling into the motel, I noticed the lack of Cherry by the driveway and the dark window of the room she worked out of. I had to figure the girl was likely home now, asleep. There were a few people moving about in the light of early dawn, the sky now a bright pink and the first shadows of the day appearing on the ground, but most of them didn't seem to be my working girls or staff and were likely using this as a real motel. The Civic was parked in it's spot again, so I knew Yukie was here somewhere too.

With that thought in mind, I dropped the kickstand, and, after sliding off the motorcycle and checking to make sure no one was looking, used my potence to carry Mira to my room. Yukie was waiting on the bed, watching the early morning cartoons with Dominique. Yukie slowly looked at me as I carried Mira inside to place her in a chair beside the window, but didn't otherwise move.

"What happened to her?" Dominique asked, after muting the TV from when it began playing commercials.

"It's what happens when we go to bed," I told my familiar as I pulled the top cover off the end of the bed and made a little pallet by the bed where Mira would be hidden from any sun's rays.

"So, she'll get up tonight?" Dominique asked.

"Yep," I said, putting a pillow down for Mira's use. "Probably after me, though. It seems the young need more sleep."

"Huh," she said, looking at Mira with a questioning look. "I don't sleep at all, so I wouldn't know."

"It's so you can watch over me during the day and take care things for me," I told her once I had things arranged. I then went over and picked up Mira, setting the new kindred in the cover and tucked her in like it was a cocoon. At least she should be safe from the sun as she was hidden by both the bed and a cover.

Getting Celeste's Grimoire, I sat to the table and began to peruse through the book, noting the differing spells. One of the things I thought funny was what Celeste listed as a turn of the century invention with the advent of electricity, the forty watt mage. The spells listed created and controlled arcs of electricity even to the point the mage would glow with inner light. Celeste's writing detailed this phenomena as the forty watt Tremere, and it seemed to be a derogatory remark.

Another recent addition listed in the Grimoire were the powers of technomancy. It allowed a mage to learn, then control electronic devices which was useful to older Tremere and prevented theft or use of a device without permission. I could see that it would be useful on devices like computers, allowing me to keep my personal machine free from pilfering, but in the age of the internet it made me wonder if it would keep hackers out.

I was about to turn the page when I yawned, and knowing I was probably about to go down, decided it was time to go to bed. Putting the Grimoire away, I finally ghosted myself under the bed where I'd be out of the sun during the day. Knowing I was protected by Yukie, I allowed myself to go to sleep, the silent hope that I'd get to give it to the hunters when I woke up bringing a smile as I drifted off to sleep.


	55. Chapter 55 - KindredProblems

Chapter 55 – #KindredProblems

October 9, 2004 = Saturday

~Eliza Flores~

When I awoke, it was to Dominique yanking on my eyelids.

"Wake up wake up wake up!" she frantically chanted, as she assaulted my tender eyelids. I ended that by turning my head to the side, making Dominique fall to the dusty floor.

"I'm up," I said dryly, tossing Dominique off my head with a gentle roll of my head. I was groggy, only half awake as I ghosted out from under the bed, reforming my leather clad body on top. A glance out the window showed me the sun was still high in the sky, and the room looked normal as I sat up, which left my groggy mind wondering what was so wrong.

"It's Yukie!" my familiar screamed at me as she wriggled back out from under the bed. "She's killing herself!"

I looked to the bathroom door, taking a whiff as I did. What assaulted my nose was the rich iron scent of blood, and it was strong. My brain knew, without thinking, the only way I'd be able to smell it that easy was that there was a lot of it that had been spilled.

With that realization, my brain kicked into overdrive and I was able to shake the weariness of sleep off as I charged at the door, but the door was locked. I tried to will the strength into my arm to snap the lock like I had done before, but the best I could manage was to turn it just enough to make the door open.

Opening the door, I found Yukie laying naked in a bathtub full of bloody water, long cuts on the one forearm I could see while the other was hidden in a sea of crimson. Her head was lolled against the back wall and her eyes were closed, but not a wave one marred the surface of the water.

Panic filled me, and I stepped forward and grabbed Yukie under her shoulders, needing my potence to lift her dead weight from the water. I laid her out in front of the sink, kneeling by her to check for any signs of life. Her skin was pale, almost as pale as mine, with blue lips and fingertips but after putting my ear to her mouth and looking down to her chest, saw it rise and fall in shallow movements. I pulled my auspex into being, finding she did still have an aura, but it was now as faint as her breathing.

"Not dead yet," I said, putting my wrist into my mouth and using my fangs to open a wound. I then used my free hand to open Yukie's mouth, then dribbled the blood into her mouth. Once I had the blood in her mouth, she began to moan and move, so I checked her wrists for any signs of continued bleeding. Thankfully there was none, but the long cuts on her arms were deep and to the bone.

Thinking I had to try something to get her cleaned up, I then took possession of her body letting mine fall to the floor. The first thing I tried to do was sit up, but found my world spinning from blood loss. While it seemed I might be able to shrug off mental problems or physical problems that could be balanced out like being sloshed on booze, I still had to have blood to work.

I gave it several moments of clutching the sink for support before I moved on to my knees. This time the nausea was less, but I still felt it necessary to wait a minute before standing. When I did stand, I moved into the bathroom and carefully used a toe to lift the stopper and allow the bloody water to flow out.

While I waited for the water to flow out, I gave a few thoughts about what would cause Yukie to commit suicide. The best answer I could come up with was that my blood was forcing her to act against her nature as a hunter, and she hadn't been able to override the call of my blood when I had given it to her a second time. As such, she had likely been fighting a war in herself to either kill me and free herself or to submit herself to my will.

In the end, she could do neither so she decided to kill herself while I slept. It was a good plan, except that Dominique had woken me at the last moment. Now, as I started the water that would wash away the blood, I wondered what Yukie would do that she had drank my blood again.

I knew a few things that I could do to prevent it from happening again, first and foremost was that I would order her to never commit suicide again. Another thing I was thinking of doing was giving her more work to do, though I had yet to find anything for her to actually do.

Though as I stepped into the shower to rinse the blood off, I did have ideas about sending her with Mira as protection. The idea was one I mulled over as I washed, being careful of the deep cuts on Yukie's arms. Though no blood leaked from the wounds, I still wanted to be careful of infection.

Once I had Yukie's body and hair clean, I dried her off and put her hair up in a towel. I then rummaged through the dresser to find her clothes. One drawer, when I pulled it out, held clothes I'd never seen before. After going through them, I finally dressed Yukie in a pair of panties along with a black tank and short set then laid her out on the bed before letting my consciousness slip back to my real body.

I yawned as I got back on my feet, so I finally checked the time, finding it was just after noon. Yukie had certainly picked the right time to try and commit suicide, as I normally wouldn't be up for hours. I was also stuck in my motel room as the sun was shining just outside the door.

Looking out the window though, a smile curved my lips at seeing some of the girls as they laid out to get a tan. Problem was, they were facing away from me. Moving to the door, I opened it and put the swing lock's bar to block the door from closing as I waited for a person to come by.

The first person to come by though wasn't one of the girls, but the redheaded bouncer, Hans, who was dressed in shorts with his chest bare. I possessed him without thinking about it, going into my motel room where I moved my body to the bed and hid it under the covers. Yukie was still unconscious, and grabbing the cash from my pocket and my room's key, headed back out, removing the swing lock as I did to allow the door to close.

I headed back to Hans' room to get his clothes, figuring he was probably either about to swim or work on his own tan, but wanted to get my own stuff done. When I got him into his room, I dressed him in slacks and a Four-Play T-shirt with a pair of high gloss dress shoes. I grabbed the keys he had laid out on his table, figuring people would ask questions if I just drove off on either my Ninja or in the Civic.

I checked the logo on the car key to find a Dodge emblem, so when I left Hans' room I began searching for a Dodge. One of the first vehicles I tried the key fit, so I climbed inside the Dodge Dakota and started it. The thing had a deeper rumble than a regular engine that I placed as a diesel, though the gauge said it took gas.

After backing it out, and easing the large and uncomfortable vehicle towards the road, I saw Cherry standing by the road in a skimpy pair of short shorts with a tied up top. She must've heard me coming, because she turned and waved me over, so I rolled the passenger window down to talk to her.

"Where ya headed?" she asked me as she leaned in the window.

"To the store," I lied, not wanting to tell her I needed medical bandages for Yukie.

"Think you could make a run to the store for me?" she asked me. I was wondering if I should say yes or not when she continued on. "I need condoms. I forgot to bring more with this morning."

"Why not ask your sister?" I said, but Cherry just rolled her eyes.

"She totally hates that I'm trying to get it on with the new boss, but it's all I've ever wanted to do," Cherry whined. "She kept going on all the way home last night that I shouldn't be back today, but, here I am."

"Anything in particular?" I asked, bringing a smile to Cherry's face. "Ribs? Studs? Pleasure pack?"

"Just plain, straight tubes," she said, rubbing at something I couldn't see below the window. "And get lots of them. I plan to be here until almost sunrise tomorrow."

"About a hundred work?" I asked her and she nodded.

"Some guys can be such jerks," she said sourly. "Like I'm not going to feel it when a ribbed condom isn't there? Or how about when they rip them intentionally just to try and cum in me?"

"I agree," I said, then remembered I was in a guy's body when Cherry looked at me funny. "They should be glad they get a chance to have you at all. I still haven't yet."

"I'm sorry," Cherry said apologetically, shaking her head.

"Don't be," I told her back, feeling Hans' cock stiffen at the thought of burying itself in her pussy. Having seen it personally, it was easy to picture it in my mind and that just made my cock surge in rigidity. "Tell you what, when I get back we can do it as a way of paying me for your condoms."

"I guess sis couldn't say no then," Cherry said with a wan smile. "Alright, just hang around if I'm not out here when you get back. It won't be long."

Having seen Hans' cock before I just smiled back. "You won't say that when you see me."

Cherry began laughing, backing up a step as she did so. "You better get to the store and get back."

"Back in a bit," I said, pulling out of the motel and turning towards the local pharmacy. I glanced at Cherry as I drove down the street, seeing a white car pull in to talk to her. It was for the best, I figured, as it allowed me a chance to take care of Yukie and give her her orders before I went off to play.

I parked the Dodge pickup at the pharmacy and grabbed a cart once I was inside the store. I headed for the first aid isle, picking up gauze by both the roll and pads then followed it up with surgical tape, antibiotic ointment, and hydrogen peroxide enough to get Yukie through several days.

Once I had those supplies set, I went on to the safe sex isle to check out condoms. Just thinking of Cherry having sex was making my borrowed cock hard again, and I felt the need to bury it in her. I tried to shake the feeling as I looked through the condoms, but all I could imagine as I read off each different type was what it would feel like to use it on Cherry.

After finding the plain condoms, and grabbing three of the thirty-six count boxes, eyed the bottles of lube they had as well. It was on impulse I snatched a spray bottle of a water based lube before I headed for checkout. I had an uncomfortable time walking with a hard-on, but was at least thankful nobody mentioned it and soon had it hidden behind the counter as I put my purchases on the conveyor belt. The clerk didn't even bat an eye as she rang it all up, making me wonder what went on around here and I paid the bill with money I had taken from my own pocket.

Once I had put the bags in the front and started the diesel engine on Hans' Dodge pickup, I pulled out and headed for the motel, being careful not to scratch the paint on Hans' pickup in the tight confines of the parking lot. Cherry was missing when I got back, but the white car was parked in front of the room Cherry was using so I figured she was working.

I parked the Dodge pickup back in its spot, then took all the bags with me back to my room by the pool. As I passed Cherry's room though, I felt a stab of jealousy that someone else was in there with her. It made me stop and wonder why I felt like that, but no answer was immediately forthcoming. I could only think of burying my cock in Cherry and making her squeal.

I finally forced myself to go on, as I wasn't going to get anywhere in the immediate future. Still, I was plagued by thoughts of dominating Cherry's body all the way to my room. Once I had opened the door to my room, finding Yukie asleep where I left her, I was then hit with a wave of revulsion as I looked at her petite form.

I tried to think of doing it with her again, but as I used the peroxide to clean the wounds I couldn't help but think of Cherry. Looking down at Yukie, once I had her wounds cleaned, I tried to say to myself that it was she was weak, but the answer that felt truer to my inner voice was she was already conquered and pliant. As I listened to that inner voice, I could faintly hear it demand to hunt, to conquer and dominate the weak.

It was in that moment I realized I was hearing my inner beast clearly for the first time. It wanted me to take Cherry in ways that made another voice within me cringe, a voice I could only place as my innocence. It reminded me of how I felt to be violated by the Sabbat thugs when I was still living, and how I had cried to find it had occurred on the same bed my sister had been through the same and died on.

I steeled myself against my beast, telling myself no but the voice in and of itself wouldn't be so easily denied. It continued to suggest lascivious and denigrating ideas to me as I plied the ointment onto gauze pads and lay them over her wounds to keep infections down and assist the healing process then wrap and taping them to keep them in place.

Once I had that done, I grabbed the bags containing the condoms, pocketing the lube in case I needed it, then left my room behind and stood at the end of the hallway where I waited for Cherry to finish up. While waiting, I was still assailed by the mental images of taking Cherry and it was making me hard again. I tried to banish it from my mind, but I was so distracted that I didn't hear it when Diamond walked up behind me and didn't even know she was there until she tapped on my shoulder.

"Waiting for someone?" she asked me, crossing her arms over her chest. It took a moment before I remembered that I was in Hans body and that she hated the red-haired man.

"Yeah," I drawled, leaning up against the wall as I took the blonde in. Diamond was dressed in skin tight jeans with a light colored camisole and her heels were probably more comfortable at four inches than what she was more used to as an exotic dancer. My inner beast began suggesting obscenities about her too, and I shifted my bags to hide the tent in my pants even as it became painful because the pole wasn't allowed to go all the way up.

"My sister, right?" Diamond asked and I nodded.

"She asked me to get her some condoms," I told her and Diamond glanced down to see the contents. When she looked back up, her face lost a little of its seriousness to make her look sick.

"I guess I'm supposed to say 'thank you,'" she said sourly.

"Oh, I know it's asking too much," I said just as sourly back to her. Hearing a sound from down the walkway, I saw a guy now walking down the sidewalk. I watched him for a few seconds, then smiled as he got in the white car and started it.

"That's my cue," I said, stepping away to leave Diamond glaring nothing but hate my way. Cherry was just about to step out when I got to the door, but she brightened at seeing me.

"Oh, thank god I was just about die," Cherry said in an exasperated tone as she took a bag from me and looked inside. "That jerk ruined two condoms! I finally had to tell him if he ruined the last one he wasn't going to get any at all."

"So why not charge him to go bareback?" I quipped to bring Cherry up short. The idea sort of popped in my head, and I decided to run with it. "What? You're bringing in what, a hundred or two a pop? Double it to go bareback or even triple it if they want to cum in you."

The information I had given Cherry shocked her so bad she had to sit on the bed.

"A hundred a pop?" she breathed.

"Surely you're not charging less?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow. Cherry was in too much shock to respond, so I pushed on. "You know you're sister made a grand for doing the same thing while in the club, right?"

"I-I-I had no idea," she finally stammered out. "I knew she did it, but so much? No wonder they can make that cover."

"How much are you charging?" I asked her, already knowing the answer from earlier.

"Forty?" she said sheepishly.

"You know how long it'd take you to make the cover at that rate?" I asked, faking shock of my own. "Weeks!"

"I only have four more days," she finally admitted as she looked at the floor.

"Four days for what?" I said, feigning ignorance.

"If I can make the cover for the club in four days, I get to dance," Cherry told me. "Vixen will even get me a fake ID."

"And you're trying to do it at forty a pop?" I asked her and she nodded.

"I made so much yesterday," Cherry said quietly and I took a seat beside her on the bed.

"How much?

"A little over two grand," she said, then hung her head. "I've been wondering how I could make the cover but sis won't talk about her time at the club."

"That's a lot of men," I said, and she nodded slowly. "Now, if you were charging higher, you'd likely have most of it by now."

"Why do men want to do it without a condom?" she finally asked sourly.

"Same reason you don't put a dress shirt on with gloves," I told her to make her face go quizzical. "It takes away from the sensation, the feelings you're capable of feeling. You don't get to enjoy a woman's tight embrace and that comes so seldom in a man's life."

"Guess I don't think about things like that," she said finally.

"You just thing about different things," I told her, then motioned to the condoms. "Like not wanting ribs or studs, and I can only imagine what a tickler feels like."

"Not very pleasant," she said, going ramrod straight at the thought of one of the little rings going inside her. "So, I guess I still owe you for these?"

"And I'll trade it all in if you'll just let me be the first to be bare inside you," I said, though I was thinking of different things as I looked at the redheaded woman beside me. If I had access to my blood, I was thinking using her as a vessel for a revenant. Since there was no outward signs until the child was much older, it wasn't as if I'd get caught. Plus I had intentions of keeping her within reach through her sister, so this would just be farming out the child raising.

"Really?" Cherry said, looking unsure. "What about getting pregnant?"

"Well, if it's close to your time you can always take Plan B," I told her and she frowned. "Plus, I'd recommend douching when you get home after being cummed in. And if you ever do get pregnant, there's always Planned Parenthood or putting them up for adoption."

"I like none of those options," she said, shaking her head.

"It is the best way to make the money in time," I told her. "Unless you intend to rob a bank."

"Definitely not," she said as she straightened up briefly before sagging her shoulders again.

"And if all you're doing is making the cover, then you can stop once you're done," I told her and she nodded her head.

"Alright," she said, undoing the knot that held her top. "Bareback it is, then."

I watched as Cherry slid her short shorts off her hips before kicking them away from the bed to lie near the window. It left her completely nude as she lay back on the bed, and that made my borrowed cock harder than diamonds. I stood up, finding it hard to concentrate on the buckle as my cock throbbed for Cherry's body. I eventually just gave up and forced my pants down off my hips and let my cock spring free.

Thoughts of making a revenant in her ran unchecked through my mind. I knew I'd need my blood to make it work, and it was only because of my beast screaming through my head that I even tried to make it work. Pushing my blood off into my hand, I actually formed a small puddle of blood in Han's hand.

Cradling the precious stuff, I wondered how I had formed it, then wondered if it wasn't somehow connected to how I dominated Hans when I felt the connection weaken between us. It was like suddenly being muffled in cotton, my senses dulling as I teased my swollen cock against Cherry's body. If she said or did anything, I didn't notice as I quickly drew the arcane symbols from memory around her navel then poured the remains of the blood I was using in the small dip of her belly button before I was snapped back to my body then promptly fell into the abyss of torpor.

=o=0=o=

When I again awoke, it was dusk evidenced by the dim light coming through the window. The sudden change was momentarily lost on me as I looked at the ceiling. When it came back, I took in my surroundings and noted that Yukie was now curled up with her head on my stomach, though still asleep.

I gently laid the ghoul back on the pillow, setting my feet down on a now struggling Mira. She finally kicked her way out of the cocoon I had laid her in, letting loose a string of Italian as she got to her feet. None of it sounded complimentary, but let it pass since it wasn't directed at me.

"I figured you would have stripped me," she finally said as she took in her attire from last night.

"Not my style," I told her as I scanned the parking lot from a shadow. Jean's pickup wasn't out there yet, and switching to another shadow gave me a view of Cherry as she hooked for money. "Jean's not here yet, so if you want to shower you better hurry."

"How can you tell?" she asked as she stripped off her top.

"I can see through the shadows," I told her, getting a hmm in response as she stepped into the bathroom. "Try looking at a shadow and pushing your sight into it."

After several moments of quiet, I heard Mira's comment of "Neat."

"I find it useful for peering around corners, especially in dangerous situations," I told her through the wall. "I can also use it for spying on people as only one person has ever seemed to notice it."

"Who was that?" she asked as I heard the water start to run.

"Strauss, the Tremere Regent," I told her just as the sound of the water changed telling me where Mira was. I thought over what I would need for the trip to the hunters, figuring most of it was out in the car still. A plan formed in my mind of arming myself and jumping straight there to begin my attack. It had the element of surprise, plus the advantage of speed and not having to risk having my guns being found getting there or back.

Or anything else I might have to do tonight as I intended to be on my Ninja and therefore highly visible to any passing police car. I also needed to visit my new golf course and meet Vanessa Seiche, manager of said course. Plus it wouldn't hurt to visit Gary and see if he had any information on Samantha and the Sabbat.

"So much to do, so little time to do it in," I groused as I scanned the parking lot again with my shadows but still didn't find any Jean. I heard the water soon shut off even as I watched the motel's entrance, and I could hear Mira humming a slow tune as she dried herself off.

I also couldn't help but feel a little bit cheapened as I watched a car pull up to Cherry. Moving my spot to get a better vantage, I also put my hearing into the shadows so I could listen as well.

"How baby," Cherry said as she leaned in the car's rolled down passenger window. I couldn't see what was going on as my vantage point was behind Cherry, but I could hear them. "Looking for a good time?"

"Sure," the guy said, though I couldn't see him. "How much?"

"I start at a hundred," she told him and I smiled. Cherry was learning, which was a good sign. It meant I could use her later as she got older and more useful.

"Sure," he said, and Cherry opened his door from the inside and climbed in. I didn't follow them right away, keeping my vantage point on the road for a bit until I saw Jean's black Toyota 4x4 coming down the street.

I pushed my sight into her truck to make sure it was her, only identifying it by the badges she had hung from the rear view mirror as Jean herself was dressed in full leather wearing a full motorcycle helmet with the visor down. It must be how she got around before sunset, and I filed that away for future use. Apparently the sun was only deadly if it touched your skin. Any type of shadow, even from a visor, was apparently enough to keep you from burning.

A touch on my arm made me shake the shadows and come back to my body, to find a re-dressed Mira looking at me confused. It was only then I realized I had a weakness when I was pushing my senses out of my body; they apparently didn't pickup anything but where I was concentrating on.

"You okay?" she asked and I nodded.

"Jean's almost here," I told her. "I was looking and listening to a conversation on the street. Have to be mindful that when you push your senses into the shadows you can't see or hear what's going on around you."

"Alright," she said, turning away before reaching down to get her boots. "I was just asking where I should meet you tonight."

I thought it over for a second, taking in the cramped confines of the room and the three full sized people in it. We needed more space.

"How about the golf course?" I told her, getting a nod from Mira. "In fact, after you get your stuff from the mansion, head directly there and find Vanessa. If she gives you any flack just tell her you're representing the new owner and you need a private suite with two bedrooms."

"Alright," she said, pursing her lips in thought. "I guess staying close until I have my own support network like you do is essential to my survival."

"That'd be best," I told her as she finger brushed her hair. "You might also keep an eye out for ghouls of your own to make."

"How do you make one?" she asked me just as a knock came on our door. A quick check through a shadow showed it was Jean.

"Just take a mortal and add feed them a bit of your blood," I said, as Mira moved for the door. "Once they've had a taste they become addicted to it. Like Yukie here, she'll come back to me for her monthly dose like a heroin addict. And no, not just any blood will do it. She'll only want mine unless you can force her to take yours long enough for my blood to fade from her system."

"Good to know," she said then opened the door. "Hello deputy."

"Miss Giovanni," Jean said as she stepped in and appraised Mira. "You're looking scrappy."

"Figured it'd be better than fighting in a prom dress," Mira quipped back with a cocked hip.

"You've never seen a Toreador fight then," Jean said, making me laugh at the thought of either Michele or Remy fighting in their exquisite dresses, knowing they probably could and would if pushed to it. "But I wouldn't be caught undead fighting in anything that flimsy."

"Is that why you wear leather all the time?" Mira asked her.

"It provides a solid defense against knives and fists," she commented. "Guns, not so much."

"Bulletproof vest wouldn't do nothing but protect your heart anyway," Mira said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Also, with more people using bullet piercing ammo it's useless anyway," Jean added. "Besides, you ought to see what Matilda does to armor."

"Matilda?" I asked her, and Jean's grin got mischevious. She opened her coat then reached to her back to pull out a wicked looking double barreled sawed off before breaking the barrels open to show us a bullet that was nearly four inches long and an inch thick.

"These bad boys take down elephants," she said tossing it to me to examine. "They can also sit you on your ass two states back if you're not careful."

"Can you fire both barrels at the same time?" Mira asked as I handed the large bullet over to her.

Jean grimaced, then smiled. "She's not that kind of weapon. I don't plan to use Matilda for anything less than two things. Intimidation, and getting through armor. Anything more is a waste of ammo."

"Besides, the zombies they like to use go down so easy," I informed her. "Your claws should work just fine."

"Claws?" Mira asked and Jean nodded.

"Think of me like a cat," she said. "If needed, I can make a set of claws appear that can rip steel apart."

"We all have our uses," Mira said quietly. "So, ready to get out of here?"

"Sure," Jean said as Mira handed her the bullet and she put it back in the gun. "Take my pickup?"

"Uh, sure," Mira said as she opened the door. Jean had stashed the big gun back under her coat, and I could only wonder what all she had access to in her time as a kindred. She seemed knowledgeable about guns, probably countering her lack of physical prowess among her clan of hunter types.

Soon, Mira and Jean stepped out to leave me alone as they went about their tasks. Alone, I stripped out of my clothes and ran myself through the shower, thinking of the golf course and the dance club and the motel along with Venus's club. I had a great financial setup, all I needed now was a little protection, maybe something with a little class to it as well.

Thinking of my mansion, I imagined some of the grandness that Michele might help me instill in the structure with just a few well placed items like a crystal chandelier or a historic statuette for the coffee table. I was also going to add an Inner Sanctum to meet people in and it would likely be the grandest room by far as a showcase of my personal power and position within kindred society.

Sighing as I stepped out to dry myself off, I knew I was likely years away from that moment. Getting the permits alone would take time as well as the planning of everything. Even then, construction was going to take a long time where I was going to get hounded everyday by every agency known to man until it was done.

I figured with enough money I could weather any storm coming, now it was just a matter of time before Adam Dunsirn showed up on my doorstep. Like Mira, I had shown Adam a light at the end of the tunnel and now he just had to follow it to my doorstep.

In the meantime, I still had things to do so I pulled out my undies and a bra and began to get dressed. As I pulled on a pair of leather pants, a knock at my door brought my head up. I pushed my sight into a shadow outside, and saw it was Adam. The man looked down and dejected, but still prim and proper in suit.

Grabbing a mesh top and pulling it on, I opened the door with a smile. "Hello Mister Dunsirn."

"Miss Flores," he said, bringing himself up as he took me in. "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time?"

"Just getting ready for a midnight ride," I told him. "Come in, we have much to discuss."

"Thank you," he said as he stepped inside. I gestured for him to take a seat.

"You'll have to forgive me and the accommodations," I said as I sat across from him in the tiny room. "My home was recently attacked and I've lost a lot, including my check book which is being replaced as we speak."

"That's not a problem," he said, giving me a smile. With a slight push of my auspex, I was able to start reading his brain to know he was fighting his personal demons about his failure to predict the economic crash that had ruined his bank accounts, though he had yet to admit it to anyone. He had paid every cent owed as requested, now he just needed some capitol to bankroll him again. "A family member said you might be interested in investing in a company I represent."

"Among other things," I told him. "Let me be succinct. I know I'm rather recently endowed with my wealth, so I haven't gotten used to the trappings that go with it or acquired the assistance needed to manage and grow a portfolio."

"That's understandable," he told me.

As I continued to read his mind, I could hear the chant of the sum he needed to pay off the last of his upcoming debtors and make some initial investments. The fee of ten million was negligible to me so it was with a smile I continued my proposition.

"To that end, I'm going to entrust a hundred million to you for investing," I said and his eyes went wide in shock.

"A hundred million?" he asked in an astonished tone.

"Yes," I told him. "Ten million may be used to pay your debts and set yourself back up as an honest investor," I stated and the blush bloomed in his face as I slapped his inadequacies on the table for both of us to know. "Yes, I know you weren't able to foresee the stock market crash, but so many didn't. Many lost their entire fortunes with its most recent crash. To that end, I want you take a large portion of it and start long investing in some of the major companies."

"Long investing?" he asked quizzically. "That's something I thought I would have to teach you."

"I have a 'friend' who recommends it," I told him to satisfy his curiosity. "The remainder can be used for short selling as you see fit."

"That's a lot of trust," he told me and I gave him a serious stare.

"It isn't trust," I told him, my tone serious and lacking any mirth. "Like the inner core of the Giovanni, I'm a serious player and I play for keeps. If you cross me, or think you can steal from me or run, just know that I have friends who can find anyone wherever they try to hide and find any secret you try to keep hidden. I will find you and make your death long in coming."

"I...understand," he said, squirming in his seat. "I won't let you down."

"See that you don't," I said, moving to get some socks and my boots. "If you'll give me a moment, I'll see if the front office has my checkbook in yet."

"Not a problem," he said as I sat back on the bed and finished getting ready. When I had my boots on, and was ready to step out the door, I caught him looking at Yukie. "What's wrong with her?"

"She's...not feeling well after we were attacked," I lied.

"Mistress?" Yukie said, coming to as if she could tell we were talking about her.

"Lie down, sweetie," I told her, tucking my ghoul in. As I leaned in close over her, her eyes opened. "And don't you ever try to kill yourself without my permission again," I said quietly so only she and I could hear.

"Yes...mistress," she said, closing her eyes to drift back to sleep.

I straightened up and joined Adam as he ghosted for the door and we stepped outside. There wasn't much going as the light disappeared on the western horizon, so I figured it was time to finalize affairs with Adam and get to what I had to do tonight, finding Doctor Anders to get the information on opening the sarcophagus.

I led the way to the main office where Jimmie sat behind his desk. He stood upon seeing me, then reached down for something hidden.

"Had a package arrive by courier an hour or two ago," he said lifting a binder sized package into view. "She said it was for you when you got up."

"Thanks Jimmie," I said, then opened the wrapping. It was my checkbook, including a new leather binder and I reached for the pen. After writing out a check for a hundred million, then put my phone number on the memo line before turning and handing it to Adam.

"Here you go," I told him and he slid the check into his suit coat. "I'll be expecting weekly reports from you about this time in the evening."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he said then extended his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Flores."

"And you, Mister Dunsirn," I said before he turned and left. I watched as he headed for a Lamborghini, slipping into the driver's seat before starting the car with a throaty roar. I could only smile at his choice of vehicle, figuring he had to showcase a little wealth to make others think he was successful. Problem was, some wealthy individuals coming from more humble backgrounds still drove rusty pickup trucks and wore overalls, so it wasn't a perfect measure.

Still as I took the checkbook and headed for the Civic, I thought of my upcoming war with the hunters. There was no way to tell what was going to happen or what I'd need, so as I opened the trunk, I stopped to look at the various rifles, shotguns and pistols I now owned. Each one was going to give a report that could be heard for a distance, and the SAW would likely bring every cop in the area down on me if anyone heard it.

Sighing as I thought it over, I finally shook my head and slung my bag over my head and started pulling out every gun I owned and stashing it somewhere on me. Let the cops come was what I finally decided. They couldn't trace the gun back to me as I never registered any of them, either stealing or buying them from the black market. Also, to trace a gun to me specifically, they had to get the gun first and that was something they'd never do; catch me.

With my bag containing my Kalashnikov, Uzi and MP5 slung on my neck, I put my trusty Glock in the small of my back tucked into my pants where it was easy gotten to in a hurry. The only gun I was going to leave behind this trip was the flamethrower, as if any bullet punctured the fuel canister it would burn me and likely tip the balance in their favor.

It wasn't until I began wrapping the long ammo chain around my neck and hip that I began to get concerned that I might get caught. Working quickly, I settled the ammo chain in place and placing a hand on my SAW, pushed my sight to the shadows where the turnoff to the Hunters monastery was. I could tell they were home, so pulling the SAW free, and shutting the trunk with the other hand, shadow-stepped to the driveway ready to get the party started.

* * *

Author's Note: Now that I have this chapter posted, let me say I do have an idea for another vampire story but not sure if I want to make it a continuation of Rise. It utilizes my best ideas and penchant for pulling a rabbit out of a few lines of text.

In this case, it involves Caine's first sired kindred known as the Lover's. That's all I'm going to say now, but just know that I do have continuing ideas.

As always...Like it? Hate it? I won't know if you don't review!


	56. Chapter 56 - Slaughterhouse Rescue (P1)

**Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long since my last posting, but life as always is hectic, and this chapter was a bear to write. I initially wanted to do a different approach to the Society of Leopold mission, but after reading each successive chapter, was never satisfied with it.**

 **This time, I think I have it, but I left it short for two reasons. One, namely, I hadn't updated in awhile and wanted to give my readers something. Two, the next chapter it gets interesting.**

 **You'll find out next year!  
**

 **Be glad there's only three more weeks left till 2019.**

* * *

Chapter 56 – Slaughterhouse Rescue (Part One)

October 9, 2004 = Saturday Sunset

~Eliza Flores~

Walking up the driveway, I felt giddy and grew more so with each crunch of gravel under my boots. In a way that seemed antithetical to me, I was anticipating this, and as I approached the first hunter in the shadows of the driveway, didn't even slow up as I pulled a chakram from the shadows before throwing it through his neck. The hunter fell like a bag of potatoes, his head hitting the ground moments before his body.

I continued on, the gravel crunching under my boots. I passed the arrangement of motorcycles they used, including a pair of vans that I figured were for transporting supplies. The bikes were a mismatch of styles and models, some I didn't even recognize. All seemed to be well cared for though, so I let them be for the moment.

When I rounded a corner, I immediately yanked the shadows around me to obscure me from sight as I was face to face with an entire army of hunters. I took a moment to study the group and the heavy firepower they carried. I wasn't even sure if the guns were automatic or not, but I was sure they were some type of assault rifle. Some had lasers to assist in their sighting, others had some weird looking scopes. All the rifles had long magazines to indicate a heavy bullet count, so that wouldn't be good for me.

As my eyes roamed over the men, movement in the bell tower caught my eye. Studying the tower, I saw two men with what looked like the M60 Larry had shown me except it was blockier. It I knew would be the machine gun in the group, and as I searched the roof of the mission, found another nest at the other end to cover the back with more men in it and probably more men there to secure that side from invasion.

That left me to figure out the best plan of attack. Looking back to the bell towers, I knew the deadliest attack would be the known automatics, so those I wanted to take out first. If I tried to lay into the ground forces and left the M60's alone, they'd just open up as soon as they had a target and that could hurt.

Eyeing the layout of the men, though, I began to worry about a direct attack. Using the shadows, I checked around the entrenched men to find small glass battles with rags on the top. Sighing, I knew the Molotov cocktails would be my worst nightmare in a direct attack, so I was forced to abandon that idea. They were just too entrenched and it made me wonder if Beckett knew of this wrinkle before pawning it off on me.

With SAW in hand, I turned into shadows and began to ghost along the ground. Nobody even paid me any mind as I ghosted along the wall and through the rear and less heavily defended rear door. I saw a hunter praying for strength in front of an altar, so I let him be as I ghosted along. The mission itself wasn't very large, a collection of small rooms that were converted into bedrooms.

I found a set of stairs at the other end that I took, checking to see if they had the doctor in the attic. What I found in the dark space was another fifteen hunters, this time all facing the stairwell with what looked like a man tied to a chair at the back of the room. Since no one paid me any attention, I moved along the roof to find that the guy was in fact just a dummy made to dupe suspecting kindred into attacking.

After glancing around, I went back down the stairs to think. Only a handful of rooms, but the hunters numbered almost a hundred. Either they weren't all sleeping here, or they had more space somewhere. A door off to the side of the entryway was my only clue, so I ghosted through to find myself heading down some more stairs.

I figured I was on the right track when I found two more hunters on guard, in the hallway at the end of the stairs, but the cellar seemed empty except for some large casks of wine. Infuriated at the lack of Johansen, I snapped back into existence and used a potence fueled leg to knock one hunter into the other. Both men went down into a pile of limbs and guns and I moved forward and grabbed their guns. As both men realized their defenseless state, they stilled their struggling to regain their feet and just stared daggers at me.

"Now that I have your attention," I told them, leveling the big SAW on them. "Where's Professor Johansen?"

"We'll never tell you where he is!" one spat at me. I cocked my head to the side and shook my head.

"You'll speak," I told him.

"Give us your worst!" he challenged and my smile grew sinister. Lowering my shades down my nose, I dominated his mind.

"Now, where is Johansen?" I asked him.

"Behind the cask in the middle on the back wall is a ladder," he began to speak. "Follow that cave to the cavern where the shipments come in by boat, then on to the other side to the training room. Bach himself guards the professor from the evil spawn, Lacroix."

"Good," I said more to myself than them. "Now, you two will begin performing the most seditious sex acts on each other and will forever live your lives as gay men. Such is the punishment you two will endure for helping kidnap an innocent."

"As you wish," they intoned as I turned my back on them. I went to the cask and gave it an experimental pull, finding it was actually on hidden rollers. Behind it was indeed the ladder, and I stepped through pulling the cask to hide me as I got on the ladder to conceal my progress. I then shifted back to my shadow form, moving along the ceiling of the dark tunnel lit by work lamps. There weren't any hunters stationed here, so I wasn't worried about being found as I moved along.

I didn't have a care one until I hit a fork in the tunnel. The hunter I had dominated didn't mention a fork or which way to take, and a look at the ground didn't offer much help either. I took the left fork, mainly because at a sharp turn it was much brighter than the right and I was hoping that meant the cavern was just past it.

What I found instead was a small cavern filled with cages and some crates off to one side. In one of the cages sat a kindred and I was forced to do a double take. Ash Rivers? He was a highly successful movie star who had just recently won an Oscar for his role in Negative Zero, a spy movie that rivaled Mission Impossible in appeal.

If I had a throat, I would have laughed at the man's situation, even though he had obviously been tortured. Looking at the kindred though, I briefly wondered if I should let him loose. I decided to talk to him if nothing else, reforming my body from shadow to land in front of the startled hunter who was so shocked he froze long enough for me to dominate his mind. Ash rose at seeing me drop into existence, and I gave him a serious stare before turning back to the guard.

"Go guard the door and shoot anyone that comes our way," I told him. The hunter nodded, then moved to guard the entrance, his weapon at the ready..

"So, what are you?" Ash asked as he eyed me.

"Lasombra," I told him as I faced him. "My name is Eliza Flores."

"Isaac send you?" he asked, his tone dry and lacking enthusiasm.

"No," I told him only to get scoffed at. "Isaac and I don't really get along. He thinks I should join his Anarchs and leave the Camarilla behind."

"And you told him to go to hell?" Ash said, leaning against the bars with a grin growing on his face.

"The prince knows whom gets the job done," I told him, and even Ash lost his smile over that. "I'm not even here for you. They've kidnapped an innocent and I'm here to rescue them."

"I wonder if anyone even knows where I'm at," he groused as he leaned against the bars.

"I wonder if anyone would attack a hundred hunters to get you back," I told him, and he sagged in defeat. "They've made this place a fortress that even elder Gangrel kindred fear to tread."

"Just great," he groused. "Can I at least talk you into letting me out?"

"How did they even know you were kindred?" I asked him, moving closer to the bars.

"Damn hunters in Hollywood figured it out," he told me. "Eventually they posted guards all over my club and ran off my clientele. I tried to make a break for it, but they caught me and brought me here."

"Tell you what," I told him, examining the bars. I could only think of one thing to ask him for, because even though I hadn't felt the thirst when I left the motel, I was now from using my powers. "I let you out, you let me have drink."

"You can't drink kindred blood," he told me with a sneer. "Isaac always told me not to even try it."

"I can," I told him, making him back up a step. "I'm something different, older. I can't drink from the kine like him anymore, only kindred."

"Al-alright," he said, looking unsure. "You let me out, you can have a drink."

"Deal," I said, then used my potence to rip open the door, breaking the latch. Ash was startled by the display and looked increasingly unsure. I moved into the cage with Ash backing away from me and almost smiled at his nervousness.

"It isn't going to hurt, is it?" he asked nervously.

"I'm told it feels pleasurable," I told him, finally pinning him in the corner. "Best thing a kindred can feel short of their own bloodletting."

"From a neck?" he said aghast. "I've never drank from another person before!"

"Such a pity," I said, feeling disgusted by him. How was this supposed to survive?

I didn't give him another moment for banter before forcing his head to the side and sinking my fangs into his neck. Ash was taken by such surprise that he didn't even get a chance to fight before I was tasting his blood, such that it was. The taste of his blood was somewhat bland and weak, not the electrifying taste I got from Michele. Had to be something about the kindred itself.

I drank deep, not giving any thought to making it feel good for the pretty boy with the thought that once I would've swooned just for him to even speak to me. All I felt as I drained his lifeless artery was disgust that I was lowered to drinking from such a worthless fool who, though he surely had access to celerity, still got caught by humans.

Once I had my fill, I pushed the snack off and began to brush the dust of his captivity off me. His eyes yellowed and he bolted around me, and I turned to follow him as he rushed the hunter guarding the entrance. Ash made short work of it, his own hunger making him more vicious in his desperation to get blood. When he was finished, he let the dead body fall.

"I...I," he stammered, as I sidled up beside him.

"Drank a bit too deep," I said, rubbing salt in the actors wound. "Punched his card. Bought him the farm. Cashed in his chips. Stepped on his bullfrog."

"Do you have to rub it in like that?" he hissed at me.

"Get used to it, pretty boy," I told him. "I said I'd get you out, not that I wouldn't give you a hard time doing it. Now, my information says that down here somewhere is a boat access. Once I get you to it, you scram."

"You'll never see me again," he said darkly. "I'm gonna go somewhere no one will ever see this face again."

"Good luck with that," I told him as I stepped of the corpse of the hunter and headed back down the path to the fork. A quick look over my shoulder showed me that Ash had taken the hunter's rifle and he held it with familiarity. I was sure it was information from his movie training, but it was at best a tossup whether he could use thing.

As we came upon the brightly lit cavern, I motioned Ash into the shadows.

"What is it?" he asked me as I pushed my sight ahead into a shadow.

"A cavern filled with hunters," I told him as I looked around.

"Can we take them?" he asked and I shook my head as I eyed the paintball-like guns hanging at their sides.

"I see flamethrowers," I told him. "Give me a bit, and I'll take care of it."

"Alright," he said, and I could almost feel the uneasiness roll of him as I cloaked us in shadow.

I began to wonder what the best way to hand the situation would be when a thought hit me. If I could blend abilities like possessing Hans and then use what blood bound me to him to enact a spell on an unsuspecting victim, could I do the same now?

Looking at my phone for the time, just after seven-thirty. If I could dominate their minds through the shadows, and give them orders, I could get several of them to open fire on the rest and create confusion. That would make it more likely me and Ash could clean up the leftovers.

Picking a target, I waited until his eyes were facing me before I began to try to push my mind into his. As his face went slack, I knew it had to be working. "Nod," I said, then felt giddy when the hunter began to nod. "At seven-forty-five, I want you to begin killing everyone. If you are last man standing, I then want you to stick the gun under your jaw and blow your brains out."

The hunter again nodded and I let go of his mind. I was working on lining up a second when Ash cut in. "Will he actually do that?"

"Without a doubt," I said as I got a line on a second hunter and repeated the process with the exact same time.

I managed to get about five of the guys under my control before the appointed time. When that time came, the five guys began to open fire, clearing the cavern of the other hunters. My five came out on top, each man not shooting their allies until it was just them. When the last man fell amid the pop of gunfire and one man was left, he began to follow my orders and put the gun to his jaw but then stopped.

I stepped from my shadow and towards the guy but it was plain to see my control was slipping. Since he wasn't facing me, Ash and I were able to walk right up to the guy where I pulled out my Glock and blew his brains out before he even registered our presence. Ash looked askance at the gory sight, but held his tongue.

I looked around, taking in the sight and the dock. There was a small boat like the one Mercurio used to take me out the Dane, and I saw Ash eyeing it.

"Take it and go," I told him. "I can get out of here without it."

"Happy hunting," he said as he made the dash for the raft.

I didn't even wait for him to clear the cave, and began rummaging nearby bodies for additional guns. It was without a doubt that Johansen would be guarded by the best the hunters could offer, and I figured I might need an edge.

The rifle I grabbed was goofy looking with its magazine behind the pistol grip, but it was on a sling that kept it under the right arm for easy grabbing. It had a scope that offered a clear view of Ash as he puttered out of the cave with, and a laser pointer just above the barrel that somehow managed to stay clear of the scope's view to show me right where the bullet would land.

My actions got me a one-fingered salute from Ash right before he disappeared, and I was tempted to hunt him down but decided against it, for. The hunter also had a long bladed knife on a webbed utility belt that I grabbed as well. The belt also contained a few pouches containing spare ammo clips for the pistol he carried as well as the rifle, which according to the barrel on the pistol was a 'Model of 1911 US Army.' Figuring that the military would at least have functional weapons even if they were dumbed down for its soldiers, I kept the whole belt, including the knife and its metal scabbard and tightened it around my much leaner waist.

I took a few more pouches containing rifle magazines from other fallen hunters, fastening these to my messenger bag's strap as my 'new' belt wouldn't hold anything more. I also took a few more canisters of fuel for the flamethrowers and was more than a bit upset when I found that I couldn't hold more. These things were kindred fighting gold and I still had the Sabbat to deal with.

I was going to have to rely on being a skilled hand-to-hand fighter to win when I had that fight I finally decided. Fire alone wouldn't scare a human unless you managed to spray them directly.

So as I left the cavern behind and headed into hell itself, I felt somewhat confident I could handle any number of hunters the Society decided to throw at me. I had enough firepower to be a one girl hit squad, the speed to be almost impossible to hit, and a body that would take a licking without slowing down.

As I opened the door and stepped through I was confident in my ability win. I was walking death, the mistress of the night, and the sun had set.

Time to play war.


	57. Chapter 57 – Slaughterhouse Rescue (P2)

**Author's Note: Merry Christmas!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 57 – Slaughterhouse Rescue (Part two)

October 9, 2004 = Saturday Sunset

~Eliza Flores~

I went through the door like a soldier on a mission, big SAW in hand. I expected a fight equal to that of the Mexican Army versus the Alamo. I expected the place to be packed with hunters entrenched so well that my presence would be considered a joke.

What I got was a big empty room.

Well, no empty in the fact there was nothing in it. It was obviously a hunter training facility complete with gun range and obstacle course. At the other end was a stair going up to some sort of balcony that also had some sort of office door.

I was just starting to walk towards it when I caught the glint of light at the top of the stair. My celerity kicked in just in time for me to slow time enough to see the bright burst of light of the shot as it fired. I dove for the cover of a crate, the sting of a bullet on my thigh telling me I hadn't been wholly successful in evading harm, but I was safe for the moment.

"Missed!" I taunted the sniper.

"I knew Johansen would lure the servants of Satan!" a thick German accent shouted down to me, echoing off the walls and faint as I listened. "But I set this trap for the archfiend himself! Where is LaCroix!"

"LaCroix isn't the type to do his own dirty work!" I shouted back at what I suspected to be the head hunter, Bach. "You want him, head for LaCroix tower in downtown LA. Hand over LaCroix or you won't live to find him."

"Perhaps when LaCroix has run out of minions, he will show me his face!" Back said, a look through the shadows telling me he was sighting me in. "And God will guide my shot through it. Before I send you to eternal damnation, any last words?!"

"God doesn't condone harming the innocent!" I shouted back at him. "Hand over Johansen or I swear I'll see you in hell!"

"You should have begged for God's mercy," Bach taunted back. "I will show you none."

"Hell it is," I yelled, then shadow-jumped to the balcony to land over Bach.

Bach rolled clear of my kick and I leveled the big Saw on him as he rolled to his feet. His face was a sneer of victory though as he pulled a cross from his belt and, and suddenly bright light enveloped him and I found myself knocked off the balcony.

I rolled to my feet, strewing loose guns and breaking the strap on my bag as I rolled to absorb the impact. I took a moment to check for weapons as I ran for cover, finding I only had the belt holding the Model of 1911 pistol I had just taken. I managed to get behind a stack of crates just as a gunshot sent splinters to follow after me.

Staying in the safety of the crates, I used the shadows to check on Bach, finding him and his rifle sighting on me. I didn't have many options, the rifle I was needing was too far away and it was suicide to fight a sniper with a pistol. Still, I could shadow-jump and move faster than he should be able to adjust for, but that was risking a lot.

A loud report of his rifle made up my mind for me as one of the crates broke into pieces. I couldn't stay put. So as he took a second to reload, I scrambled for my bag and the Kalashnikov. One quick glance as I picked up both the Russian assault rifle and my most recently stolen one told me that my Bach was likely the best sniper in the world as he had already retrained his rifle on me.

Once again, my celerity allowed me to see the bullet as it was fired, the smoke trail trailing its path to me before disappearing into nothing. I tried to roll to the side, but the bullet sent me flying along the rocky floor as it smacked into the Kalashnikov in my hand. Once again without weapons, I could only shadow jump for safety as Bach once again tried to kill me.

I landed on the balcony, not far from Bach and where he stood with his rifle. I formed a katana from the shadows and charged, but Bach just pulled his cross and held in front off him. The effect was immediate, it was like hitting a burning hot brick wall and I staggered back to eye him.

I was spared from having to choose where to jump to as Bach set hit rifle against the railing, apparently unwilling to risk firing the large weapon one handed. Instead, he pulled a katana from his belt.

"Ready to die, unholy demon?" he spat at me.

"I'm a Catholic," I told him, resolute in that statement. "I'm not some unholy demon to be sent to hell for all eternity."

"Then why can't you approach?" he challenged me, moving forward with his cross held in front of him. That burning wall feeling pushed me back and I eyed him with hatred. "Try it demon! Face a true man of God!"

I tried to push my katana forward, seeing if maybe I needed to make some kind of spear or chakram to get past his cross, but where the katana met the wall, it dissolved into nothing. My pistol was next, but Bach didn't even flinch as I put an experimental round into his chest. The bullet disappeared as he

Bach kept his constant march forward and pushed me back, and soon he had me backed up to the railing, and I realized I was out of options. Jean's tale of a true man of faith and a cross came to my mind, and with that in mind, knew I was going to have to jump.

But where?

Eyeing the spot behind Johansen, an idea came to my mind. His impenetrable wall of faith was in front of him, signified by the cross. If I could get behind him fast enough, I might be able to end this. With that in mind, I used my celerity to roll over the railing, then shadow-jumped to a spot behind Bach.

It was almost a shock to see Bach whirling on me, so it was in haste that I began popping shots at Bach like a Compton bad girl. My haste made me miss a lot, but a few shots grazed Bach's cross arm, which was protecting most of his body. The shock of being shot made the cross fall from limp fingers, the 1911 mirroring as I dropped the empty gun.

Bach's snarl was almost feral as he readied his blade, somehow getting his injured arm to work and maneuver his blade. I squared off against him with my shadow blade and tried to slash at his leg. Bach proved every bit my equal as he parried my blade, and even my celerity was somehow muted as we fought.

Bach also proved himself a master duelist in another way. As our blades met, he would slacken his wrists to allow his blade to slide past mine. This made me give ground to avoid a fatal slash. Again and again, Bach's prowess in battle made me give ground until my foot found the wall behind me. With nowhere left to retreat to, I made the last ditch effort to overpower the mortal in the best way I knew how.

Adding potence to my limbs, I knocked Bach's blade to the side on a successful parry of his slash then let go of my shadow-blade and grabbed the front of Bach's duster. While my intent was to throw him hard enough against the wall to leaven a Bach-shaped impression that would surely daze the hunter long enough for me to kill him, he surprised me by getting a leg between him and the wall shoving me to the ground.

My deathgrip on Bach's duster pulled the hunter on top of me, and a flash of steel was my only warning as Bach's katana slashed underneath my throat. If it weren't for my celerity adding speed to my arms, Bach would have decapitated me then and there, but I just barely caught the blade as Bach gripped the other end to saw through my neck.

"Now demon," he hissed in my ear, "You will be sent to the abyss from which you came!"

"I'm no monster," I grunted out. "I came only for Johansen."

"That is why you slaughter my men?" he challenged me.

"Only the ones I was forced to," I told him as I struggled to keep the blade from my neck. How a mere mortal was matching my supernatural powers was a mystery. "But I'm not the one kidnapping innocents and torturing them."

"Johansen is our guest," he said, as he kept up the struggle with the katana.

"What about Ash?" I asked him. "Were the cross burns from his capture?"

"That was an abomination," he replied. "He will be cleansed so that the innocent soul within can go to its just reward."

"And who are you to judge?" I asked him. "Judge not lest ye be judged?"

"Is that why you cannot stand Holy Light?" he asked and I felt my stomach fall. "Is that why you cannot face the Cross?"

I remained silent as my brain tried to find a way to survive. I was weakening, the blood fueling my potence draining and soon I would be at a severe disadvantage. Thinking back to all the powers I knew of, I had two last options, and both would mean my destruction. I could summon the shadows, send us both to the void in the hopes that what Bach would see there would scare him to death.

I quickly rejected that idea. Bach was clearly a match for me in every detail. That left me with a shadow-tentacle. Where before I had used them to ensnare my victims, I needed this one to do something drastic.

Summoning the tentacle on the ground in front of me, I closed my eyes to what I had to do. Willing the shadow into motion, it plunged into and through my chest and out my back and into Bach. Bach bucked at the violation of his being, but his hands went slack on the sword and I finally managed to shove it away to clatter across the floor.

I dispelled the tentacle, feeling Bach slide off as I scrambled back to my feet. When I looked back, his duster was covered in blood and he looked at me with a sense of betrayal as he took in the hole in my own chest.

"I-I never thought you had access to that power," he said as I stood over him. "How?"

"You should try to learn more about your prey if you intend to risk your life to kill us," I told him as I knelt beside him. "If I were the monster, I'd drain you of your blood and throw your lifeless husk in the trash. All I'm going to do is take Johansen home."

Bach gave me an incredulous stare as blood leaked from a corner of his mouth. "If you survive, you better not come looking for me as you did LaCroix," I warned him. "As I told you before, I'm no monster, but I'm not a fool either. I won't tolerate a hunter after me just waiting to ambush me. Attack me again at your own peril."

Bach just stared daggers at me as I picked up my empty pistol on my way to the door Bach had been guarding. A look over the railing at my scattered weapons made me sigh, knowing it'd be a pain to grab everything on my way out. My bag's strap had been ripped in the fall, and the contents had been spread all over. Likewise my SAW and it's accompanying ammo belts were also strewn with the ammo belts in several pieces.

That gave me momentary pause as my hand rested on the door handle as I looked back to Bach. He hadn't laid a hand on me when he threw me off the balcony, but just about everything I had had been taken and broken when I landed on the floor below. I had still won the fight, that Bach lay dying on the balcony with blood leaking from his mouth was evidence of that.

Opening the door, I found it was set up as a living quarters. In one corner sat a short-sheeted cot, a chrome plated shotgun propped up beside it. There was also a small religious shrine in a corner, and I had the feeling this was where Bach stayed. I went over to the shotgun, grabbing it by the pistol grip and examined it. It was bulky, short barreled and had the familiar pump shotgun feel I'd seen in the hands of police in movies. It was heavy, though, like a full ten pounds but there was also a sling which I put over my head to let it rest on my left hip.

The only other thing to the room was a doorway at the rear of the room. Going through it, I found another cot but on this one sat an older man in a bathrobe. He looked at me with a mix of hatred and sadness.

"I told you everything," he complained. "There's no reason for you to keep me here! Let me go!"

"Doctor Johansen?" I asked and he nodded.

"I am an archaeologist!" he went on. "You can't hold me here like this, I am a hostage. Bring me back to my hotel at once!"

"Tell me what I need to know, and when the sun comes up you'll be in police hands."

"Ja, ja, okay," he said. "Just get me out of these caverns and away from these crazies. I think I'm starting to get pneumonia."

"Tell me about the Ankaran Sarcophagus," I asked him.

"The sarcophagus?" he asked. "You went through all that trouble for the sarcophagus?"

I nodded and he shrugged. "Ja, I'll tell you, but , don't you think it would be better to get out of here before those men come back?"

"I dealt with them," I told him and he sagged in relief. "They won't give us any problems."

"I guess if you can get all the way here, you deserve the answers," he agreed. "Where should I begin?"

"Let's start with the history of the Ankaran Sarcophagus," he said as he stood up. "That is a long and interesting legend, lost and found throughout the ages. Tell me, are you familiar with the Assyrians?"

"No," I said as the name was unfamiliar to me. "Somewhere in the middle east, right?"

"Ja, well, the Assyrians lived in Mesopotamia, a region between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers," he said, acting more like a professor giving a lecture. "Most of this territory is now modern-day Iraq, Iran, Turkey and Syria.

"They were warmongers, conquerors, a people driven to expand by their kings. Even before the Romans, they migrated their conquered people to the territories to stem revolt, but, uh... I'm afraid I'm getting off the subject."

"Tell me about the sarcophagus itself," I said, bringing him back to the matter that prompted me to get to this point.

"Well, the markings on the sarcophagus seem to hint that is from some time between 1050 and 800 B.C., which was a period of fierce expansion by the Assyrians," he told me. "Oddly, for those years, only one king shows up on the historical record. While most likely he wiped all evidence of his predecessor's existence or passed the name to his heirs, one monarch, Messerach, the One-eyed King, is given credit for the territory and achievements of this time. But he would have had to have been over 250 years old! Like a Dracula or something."

"So?" I said, and he frowned as if he were treading familiar arguments.

"I find it hard to believe that a sarcophagus with a person as important as Messerach could remain in - oh, what is the word? - pristine or intact condition for so many years, but this is who is believed to be contained within."

"It is mostly a moot point, though," he said with a sigh. "Maybe you have not yet heard, but it was stolen from the museum before we had a chance to open it. Usually, we use equipment to carbon-date, X-ray, and take air samples before we pry open the lid.

"You compared him to a vampire... any reason?" I asked him as I wondered if there had been a breach of the masquerade.

"You know, it is interesting that you ask me that," he told me, his face lighting up at a thought. "The goddess on the outside of the sarcophagus was Lamastu. In Assyrian myth, Lamastu was an evil demoness who preyed on humans. Many people cite her as the mother of vampire myth, and the engravings on, and found around the sarcophagus portray a regal figure drinking the blood of his enemies. Now, this image is found in many cultures, specifically among those of royal lineage... but there is a quite scientific explanation.

"Which is?" I asked him absentmindedly, glad the masquerade was safe.

"A disorder known as porphyria. In short, it is caused by a deficiency of the iron in the blood, and in many cultures, for the nobility that could conceivably get away with the cure, the treatment was to... drink human blood."

"So Messerach drank human blood?" I asked him, wondering if I had heard him right.

"Perhaps," he said with a shrug. "Drinking the blood of your enemies is, if nothing else, symbolic. It can inspire fear in your foes and dissidents. Don't misunderstand me, I in no way believe it was a vampire. Vampires... that's what caused this whole mess - these maniacs believe they exist!

"Bunch of bull if you ask me," I said. "How do I open the sarcophagus?"

"Ah! Quite interesting," he said, getting almost giddy at something. "There is a surprisingly complex mechanical lock on the face of the sarcophagus. By sheer luck, we were able to find the key not far from the sarcophagus. Why no one ever found it and robbed it...it's perplexing."

"A key!" I asked him, and he nodded. "Do you have it?"

"How strange you would ask," he said, and I felt my insides cave as a brief flash of no rang through my mind. "I haven't seen the key since it was loaded into the Elizabeth Dane in Turkey. It was stolen before the sarcophagus, even! I am still hopeful that the police find both pieces before the contents can be disturbed."

"Do you have a copy of the key?" I asked him, then felt stupid for asking it. Ancient keys were likely hand made and not easily reproduced."

"No," he said, shaking his head at my stupidity. "It's not the kind of key you can copy at the hardware store. It's actually very sophisticated and I meant to study it at the museum."

I heard a brief rustle and I looked for the source. Not finding any, I turned back to Johansen.

"I answered all your questions," he pleaded with me. "Do you think, now, you could please get me out of here? I don't care who you are or why you've had so many questions about the sarcophagus. I just want to leave this place."

"Sure," I told him, placing an arm around his waist so I could jump us both to the surface. "Thanks for the information, doctor."

From my vantage point I had a good view of Bach as he stumbled through the door to collapse by the bed. He looked at me with a wicked, bloody grin as he pulled something from his duster pocket.

"Your time of judgement is here," he weazed, and from his mind I saw the explosive charges being planted throughout the caverns ceiling and how it was all wired to that simple trigger. He pressed the button, and an earthshattering boom nearly drowned out his final words. "I shall die knowing you die with me!"

Panic filled me debris crashed through the ceiling, crushing Bach in front of my eyes. I jumped, dragging Johansen with me through the shadows back to the road. When I turned around, the entire monastery slid off into the ocean, shrieks from the hunters who had been guarding the perimeter filling the night as the tried to save themselves from the falling rock and deep plunge.

"Those men," he breathed and I spun him to face me. I peered over my glasses to put him under domination, and he went slack.

"You will not remember anything more than that you were captured, and that you managed to escape when your jailer was sleeping," I told him.

At Johansen's nod, I shadow-jumped again, this time back to my motel room to change clothes. What I saw made me angry. The room was in complete disarray, clear signs that a battle had been raged. Holes and even slice marks adorned the walls giving evidence to the severity of the battle.

In the middle of it all sat Yukie on the edge of the bed, katana across her lap. She was still dressed in the shorts and tank I had dressed her in after her suicide attempt though now there was blood and rips in the material. With her eyes closed, she looked almost asleep until they snapped open. The visceral look in her eyes was instantly replaced with one of relief, and she set the katana aside.

"Mistress, we were invaded," she told me as she stood to join me.

"Any idea who?" I asked her.

"Īe," she said as she lowered and shook her head. "She was, hen'na, strange. Her eyes were diamonds."

"Diamonds?" I asked her and she nodded. "I'll ask around, see what I can come up with. Shouldn't be too hard to find though."

"I can say she got away with nothing," Yukie told me.

"Good," I said, looking through the debris of my room. "Still feeling the blood loss?"

"Hai," she said, sighing as she sat back on the bed. "I could barely fend her off. She tried to eat me."

"Eat you?" I said, appalled at the thought. "Are you sure she was kindred?"

Yukie shook her head at that. "Her teeth were not right. They were like broken glass."

"Maybe not a kindred," I mused as I removed the heavy shotgun and set it on the dresser. Once the strap was no longer covering the hole in my chest, Yukie went wide-eyed at it but said nothing.

"It's nothing," I assured her, as I removed my gun belt and set it aside. "You should see the other guy."

Looking at the pistol, though, I couldn't help but be reminded of the loss that was my weapons. My SAW, Glock, Uzi, MP5, and Kalashnikov were all in the bag I had lost along with all my magazines. All I had left was the 1911 and the funky shotgun I had stolen from Bach. If things went south, I might want something to help me out or prevent masquerade violations.

Yukie, however, remained silent as I stepped into the bathroom area to change clothes after Bach's bullet ripped a hole my pants and impaling myself with my own powers. In deference to my upcoming meeting with the prince, I dressed myself in a blue suit and two inch heels. I then had Yukie brush out and braid my hair while I sat in a chair.

Having decided to already stop by Fat Larry's house for more weapons, my mind went to the reason I needed more weapons in the first place. A monster, Bach had called me. He had also proved it. He had knocked me off my feet and repulsed me with nothing more than his faith in the Almighty.

Was I damned? Had I lost my soul when Simeon sired me? It was a pair of questions that had me so lost in my own personal conundrum that I didn't even notice when Yukie had finished. How was I supposed to get to heaven without my soul?

"Mistress?" she asked me, bringing me back to the here and now. "I am finished with your hair and makeup."

I only nodded, moving to grab my newly acquired pistol and shotgun before heading out the door to the Civic. The walkways were quiet and I soon had the weapons stashed in the trunk. In what could only be described as a fog, I got in and began driving, taking notice of Cherry's ass hanging out of a car window as she strove to make money on my behalf.

Is that what I had sunk to? Tearing young girl's lives away just to feed me even more money than I already could use. Seeing her though, brought me one sense of clarity. I used her as nothing more than a plaything, a doll on strings to do with as I pleased. I was conditioning her to the life of a whore, making her sister watch helplessly as day by day her sister became what I wanted and accepted it.

Was I truly a bad person? Had I lost my way? Was I now a monster who was hell bound?

One thing was for sure, the hunters had access to a power of their own. Whether it was based in religion was a debate for another time, but I couldn't stop thinking about that cross. Bach had used it and his own power to not only keep me away, but could kill me with it if I were cornered. No weapon, not even a speeding bullet, could pierce that wall.

But was it because I was kindred or did it work against any enemy of the hunter?

There was no way to answer that question unless Yukie could answer it for me, but even that was circumspect. Yukie, as she was Japanese wasn't likely to be Catholic but maybe she had access to something similar. If true, did she still retain that power even though she was now my ghoul?

Shaking my head, I had to remember an old saying taught to me when I was still learning the martial arts, "Don't let yourself be distracted." I might question my spirituality if I sat around a sanctum, but I was in the field now and not keeping my mind on my surroundings could get me killed.

Especially if the hunters near Malibu were any indication of how serious they could be. While I was confident that all the hunters at the mission had been eradicated, that didn't mean there weren't others around like the one that had chased me back when I was first turned. Some people were like that, loners, and they had the capability to be the most ruthless.

Still, as I pulled into Fat Larry's garage, I counted on my ability to meet and overcome any adversary. The lone wolf hunter had died by my hand, and Chastity had been an easy mark taking her by surprise and shooting her. It was clear though, that I couldn't rely on my own powers, so that brought me here to see the man with the best guns in town.

"My girl!" Larry said as I got out of the car. "What brings you here today?"

"Guns, Larry," I said, giving him a smile even as he looked uncertain. "Damn hunters hit me and I lost everything I had. I did get a few mementos, though," I said as I opened the trunk. Larry gave a sharp whistle as he pulled out the big shotgun and looked it over, but he just shook his head.

"Not a clue," he said, then racked the mechanism to eject a shell. He looked it over, then whistled. "Never seen one like this before, but I think I have ammo for it," he said as he examined a shell. "Russian made, 23mm shell or what we call six gauge. Gotta gangrel girl that uses eight, but she says they kick like a mule. Might wanna be careful firing this, and brace yourself against a brick wall."

"Think it'll rip kindred to pieces?" I asked and he chuckled.

"Oh yeah," he said, putting it back in the shotgun's magazine. "Look's like it's pure buckshot, and a shell that big would be like firing three or four twelve gauge rounds at once. Get a good chest shot and should kill pretty handily."

"Good," I said as he put the weapon back in my trunk. "I'll take a bunch. Also need a new MP5."

"Was just working on one," he told me as he picked up the 1911 and it's gun belt. "Now this little baby I know well; a Colt 1911. Carried one in 'Nam and she saved my life more than once."

"Well, it's carrying on the tradition," I said flatly. "She saved mine with Bach. Why do they call it the 1911?"

"Because it was made in 1911," he said with a chuckle. "This design is almost a century old, but still every bit as capable as the Glock you carried."

"Wow," I said, watching as he checked the rest of the belt.

"Rifle magazines," he said as he checked the bullets. "Steyr Aug in 5.56, wow. Probably got the full automatic option too. Shame."

"If I find anymore, I'll know to look," I told him as I watched him pull the knife free.

"And the bayonet for one, too," he said as he studied it. "Still makes a good knife, though if you want I can get you a sheath to stick it in your boot or bigger or smaller knives."

"Don't bother," I said, as he put the setup back in my trunk.

"Well," he said as he led me to his workbench. "Been modifying this MP5's forward sight to hold a laser pointer. Streamlines the look and makes it more accurate in my opinion. Also, not your standard MP5, this one uses forty caliber Smith and Wesson which is more powerful than the standard nine mil."

"Nice," I said as he handed me the weapon. It was certainly sleek and after adjusting it to my stance felt good against my shoulder.

"Might rig a few more like it," he told me. "So, want some spare mags for that?"

"Sure," I told him. "Also, got a spare bag to hold it in?"

"Eh, not right now," he said as he led me down to his armory. "Not much for cases either. Kind of useless to me and takes too much to store them."

"Heard that," I told him. "I kind of prefer to keep my weapons handy."

"A gun in the hand is worth two on the rack," he joked with me and I gave him a small chuckle. "So, let's see, magazines..."

He rummaged through his boxes, handing me six spare magazines for the MP5. I stuffed them in a pocket while Larry began to rummage through another box that contained more clips, and then he held one up. "Saw you only had one mag for that Colt. Figured you might want more."

"You'd figure right," I told him as he handed me four more that I stashed with the others. "Ammo?"

"Let's just do it by the can," he said as he grabbed two cans to slide next to the staircase. He then he went rummaging through several more cans, looking at the lettering on the side before setting them aside. When he finally found what he was looking for, he popped the top then shook his head.

"The only 23mm I have is for anti-aircraft platforms," he said, shutting the can back up.

"Anti-aircraft?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"Trying to be prepared," he said as he restacked his ammo cans. "Never know what people might want at a moments notice."

"Boy scout," I called him and he just laughed.

I looked around the room at the rows of weapons and looked for anything that might be useful in handling multiple opponents. Problem was, I liked the idea of traveling light with just the one submachine gun and pistol to weigh me down. The larger Kalashnikov wasn't the worst weapon, but was restricted to full auto, was hard to hide and took up so much room in my bag.

As I eyed the M60's, I would have loved to take one, but with my Ninja back in my possession, and soon to be my principle ride, it would be impossible to carry without drawing attention.

Shaking my head, I decided to stick with the two weapons for the time being. The pistol was good for close-up work and the submachine gun was good for multiple human targets. If I had to fight multiple kindred targets, I was just going to go samurai on them with one of my shadow-blades.

"I'll do some checking for ammo for ya," he said as he joined me at the stairs. "You got such an oddball that I never even heard of it."

"Thanks Larry," I said as we went back up the stairs. "I'd love to be able to use it more than a few times."

"I hear ya," he said as he brought the ammo cans up.

"So, how much?" I asked him, and he just chuckled.

"Let's just say a thousand," he said as we loaded the items I had just purchased into the trunk of my car. I took out my checkbook, noticing the book from the Giovanni mansion next to it. After paying Larry, I slipped several more checks into my jacket pocket for easy access later before shutting it back up in the trunk.

"Pleasure doing business with you," I said, getting back into my car as Larry opened the garage door.

I pulled out, and with nothing else to do, headed for downtown. It was time to check in.


End file.
